


Pack War

by posingasme



Series: Pack Wars [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel, Alpha Dean, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/M, M/M, Omega Sam Winchester, Wolf Pack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 06:23:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3559394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/posingasme/pseuds/posingasme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester is the high alpha of a fierce but small pack. His brother, omega Sam, is his most trusted confidant and friend. But Dean knows Sam is looking for something more, for just the right companion. He gives Sam his blessing to go into the city to search for a lone alpha. </p><p>Castiel is a strong alpha wolf, of the oldest and most powerful pack. As a member of the Argos family, Castiel is a wealthy mafioso, known as an excellent fighter, yet he has separated himself from his warring relations as much as his high alpha Michael will allow. He now resides in the city, believing that being free and living alone as a human is better than being a claimed wolf back under his brother's claw.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sharp Teeth

It had been Dean's pack for six years, ever since John had caught the scent of the yellow-eyed mongrel that had mauled his wife and tried to steal his pups. John had died avenging them, but Sam had tracked Azazel, and Dean had ripped out the thing's throat with his own teeth not a full day later. They had returned to the pack bloody and sated. No one had needed to ask how the hunt had gone.

If there were concerns about Dean's ability to lead the pack, no one was stupid enough to say so. There was only a minor challenge to his right to high alpha status, and that was put down with a few circles and snarls, and the older of the two had rolled over. Dean had taken a bit of Christian's ear for his trouble, marking him as having challenged and lost to a stronger alpha. It would be unlikely he would ever try it again.

Dean's greatest talent was for leading hunts. He knew every member of the pack and how best to use each of them. John's true talent had been for training, so he had inherited the strongest and deadliest pack anyone knew, and he had organized them into one seamless, ruthless animal. No matter the prey, they were efficient and silent killers.

He liked to utilize as many pack members in hunts as possible, giving everyone a way to contribute and feel like they had earned a piece of every meal, could celebrate every victory with the rest of them. And every wolf was valuable in a different way. Garth, for example, was hardly the strongest fighter, but he was smart, focused, and an excellent scout. Benny was no leader, but was the perfect choice to keep watch over the females, elders, caretaker omegas and pups, to alert Dean to any trouble. It didn't hurt that each wolf would throw himself in front of a silver bullet for Dean.

Sometimes, though, Dean enjoyed going out for a quiet hunt with just his brother. He would wait for the camp to quiet down, give Benny sentry duty, and then nod sidelong at the huge pup, and they would be off, tearing through the forest without a word exchanged between them.

There was no dynamic more perfect between two wolves than that of Dean and his brother. Sam could feel him shift directions, and never missed a step as they ran. Even when Dean gave up caring where they were going and randomly cut sharply to the left or right, Sam was always right there. The larger wolf's nose was sharper, something Dean would never admit to anyone else, and it was nearly always Sam who began the hunt. Dean loved that moment when his brother was simply following his lead, then something shifted and Dean was somehow following Sam's. It was rare for two wolves to run together the way they always had. The natural dynamic was one or sets of three, never two. And for a high alpha to follow an omega's instincts in a hunt was rare enough to be an oddity. But it worked for them so well that they had never questioned it nor been questioned about it.

Even John had praised both Sam's cunning and Dean's humility in acknowledging his omega sibling's value. John had pointed out on many occasions that Bobby was an omega and Mary was female, but they had also been the fiercest fighters he had ever known. It was easy for an alpha, especially a high alpha, to ignore the talents of omegas. Even Sam would never speak up in his own defense if Dean chose to relegate him to a more restrictive role. But Dean was not about to give up a fight or a hunt because he was too hardheaded to use his best weapon. He and Sam were a matched pair, different in every way, but so attuned to one another that they were practically two halves of the same wolf.

On this particular night hunt, Sam had identified a buck, and they had chased it nearly half a mile to a ledge where they had split to take it down each from one side in a perfectly timed lunge, Sam from the low ground and Dean from the high. Once it was down, Sam lowered himself to wait until Dean had finished the kill and given him permission to join in the meal with a flick of his green eyes.

"You don't have to do that, you know," Dean reminded him once they had returned to human forms after eating, and were lying on cool grass far enough away from the scent of the slaughter that they could be assured of security while staring up at the stars. "Wait to eat. Give me the kill. You don't have to do that. Not when it's just us."

Sam was quiet as ever, but he shrugged. "Doesn't matter. It's better to stay in habit. Wouldn't want you to have to tear my ear if I did it in front of the whole pack one day."

"I guess."

His brother turned his head toward him then. "You would tear my ear. Right?"

"I guess I'd have to."

"Yeah. You would. Accident or not, you gotta hold the line, Dean. Dad always said-"

"Dad always said a lot of things." Dean sat up and looked out over the river below their perch moodily.

"He wasn't wrong about this. No one's going to follow a high alpha that can't keep his arrogant omega litter mate in check."

Dean snorted. "I know."

"Doesn't help that I'm bigger."

"Shut your face."

Sam laughed.

"Sammy? We gotta talk."

The humor was leaving his brother to make room for dread. Dean could smell it on him, and it was breaking his heart. "Yeah. I guess we do."

"You don't have to do anything. You know that."

"It's what I'm supposed to do."

Dean turned to him finally. "Sam, screw supposed to, okay? I'm your brother before I'm high alpha. You know that."

"Part of the problem," Sam mumbled.

His eyes rolled, and he had to bite down a growl. "Sammy. Stop with the whole supposed to. Okay? There's some privilege that comes with my status, and you should take advantage of it if that's what you want. What the hell else do you get for putting up with me as your brother?"

It was Sam's turn to snort, but it never turned into a laugh.

"I'm saying," he began.

"I know what you're saying. I don't have to take a bond if I don't want to. And I appreciate that. I do. But it isn't that simple, and you know it."

Dean went silent. He busied himself by extending his claws to pick at them.

"I want a bond. Most wolves do. I just don't want anyone we've got."

Something like relief set in. "Well, man, if that's all, we'll go steal you someone."

His brother's laugh was soft and a little bit grateful. "That's how they did it back in Samuel's day, Dean. This is a different world. The humans don't like the idea of stealing alphas."

He waved that off. "That's just because they don't understand."

"No. It's because it's wrong."

Dean sighed heavily. "Well, what then? You going to go live in the city? Catch yourself a modern alpha? You'd be shredded in the city, Sam."

"Maybe."

The green eyes widened. "Wait, what? No! I'm not letting you leave the pack!"

"Not forever! Just for a while, till I can find something that smells right."

Dean felt himself wanting to twist into his wolf form, but he struggled against it. Losing an omega was not an option. Hell, as high alpha, even losing another alpha was not an option. His teeth were on edge at the very idea.

"Quit snarling at me."

He closed his eyes tightly, then opened them narrowly. Had he still been in wolf form, his ears would have been flattened in anger. As it was, it was everything he could do to keep from throwing himself on top of Sam and biting into his neck to remind him who he belonged to.

"Dean! Stop snarling!" Sam's eyes were struggling to keep contact with Dean's. It was more than most omegas, even most alphas, could do. But Sam was not most wolves.

Dean swallowed several times, trying to bring himself back under control. He was silent for several minutes until he could speak again. When he did, it surprised his brother. "Don't do that in the city," he warned very quietly.

Sam's eyes went wide. "What?"

"If...if that's what you want, fine. Don't do that in the city, though. A lone alpha will take you apart. An unbonded omega on his own in the city, even one that can fight like you...Don't challenge another alpha's eyes like that. He'll shred you."

Sam nodded slowly. "You're going to let me go?"

"I don't have much choice."

He stared. "Of course you do. You're my alpha."

"No, Sammy." It was said quietly, and pain had seeped into his voice. "I'm your brother. I meant what I said. I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to just because I can. That includes keeping you where you don't want to be."

The larger wolf smiled, and tears sparkled in his eyes. "Dean, don't ever think this isn't where I want to be. Do I look like a city mutt to you?"

Dean's heart was aching, and it wasn't just his alpha straining against losing an omega. It was a brother losing his best friend. "No," he responded quietly. "No you don't. You look like the best damn wolf I've ever hunted with."

"I'll come back, Dean."

He nodded. Then his voice got low and threatening. "Don't make me come get you for the moon. You miss even one moon, and I'll have to tear your throat out if I ever smell you in the territory again. Don't you make me come get you."

"I wouldn't do that to you."

"Yeah. I know." _If you miss a moon it's because you aren't planning on coming back_. But he did not say this. Instead, he just nodded. "All right. When do you want to go?"

He received a shrug, and he could smell excitement on his brother. It hurt. "I never really thought you'd say yes. I have no idea."

"Okay." He stood and brushed himself off. "I'll make some calls, get you an apartment. Jo ran in the city for a while. I'll ask her about details. Tie things up this week, and I'll get to work getting you what you'll need."

In a blink, Sam had twisted into his wolf and was on his brother like they were puppies again. He nipped and licked his gratitude until Dean finally had to take on his own wolf to swipe at him. Sam grinned at his grouchy brother and took off at a sprint toward the camp. Dean was half a pace behind. He often followed Sam, even if he was the one directing their run, because of Sam's faultless nose. This time, it was because he preferred having a muzzle full of Sam's happiness and excitement rather than allow Sam to smell his own disappointment and grief.

On their way through their camp lines, Dean saw Benny staring at Sam in amazement. If it had been any other unmated, unbonded alpha watching his brother like that, Dean might have bared his teeth and made him drop to the ground, but it was Benny, and he knew he didn't mean anything by it.

Sam raced ahead to their tent, and Dean slowed to a walk. He could feel Benny's eyes on him now as he fell into pace behind his high alpha. Dean sighed, contorted to two legs, and accepted the robe Benny had ready for him.

"What?" he demanded once he had covered himself.

"You okay, brother?"

"Of course I'm okay. What's wrong with you?"

Benny did not shy like another might have. They had been friends too long to take Dean's high alpha crap to heart. "I'm not the one who reeks like a deer but acts like he just lost a hunt."

Dean glared at him, and Benny lowered his gaze respectfully. But there was no fear between them. Other than Sam himself, Benny was the last wolf Dean would ever threaten. They had fought together for years. "I'm sending Sam to the city. To bring back a lone alpha."

He looked away, but he could feel the flinch in Benny's chest. "That so?"

He could not blame Benny for being hurt. Sam was part of why Benny remained unmated and unbonded, after all. He would never try to force his advantage, as another might have, but Dean knew he had been hoping Sam would come to his senses eventually and realize there was a strong, protective, healthy and kind alpha right there waiting for a chance to prove himself. Dean had hoped so too. Benny would have been his first choice for Sam. There was no one he trusted more. But the wayward pup had been impossible to please.

"Well," Benny sighed, standing up straighter, "Fenris help the city mutts if he’s coming to town."

At last, Dean began to laugh quietly. They did not speak again as the high alpha entered every tent to sniff and be sniffed, to hear family news and to extend his affection toward every member of the pack. It was a ritual every dawn, before nuzzling at Benny and sending him on his way to sleep and taking his place as sentry.

He paused at his own tent briefly before entering it. Sam was always last, even after the adjacent tent with Lisa and the pups. It hurt to know that his tent would be cold soon, with no litter mate to keep it warm. Perhaps it was nearing time to take his own omega. Lisa would take his ear off if he tried bedding down with her and the tiny mongrels every night, and it wasn't very high alpha of him to need that comfort anyway. If he was finally being separated from his litter mate, the pack would be expecting him to take an omega, not drive his blood mate crazy while she was trying to deal with their litter.

Dean sighed. He had been spoiled by having his omega brother his whole life. It was going to be a hard moon cycle without him.

***


	2. Argos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel could not have said why he kept up with his old pack. The news he got was always full of the same drama that he had left to avoid. Maybe he just needed the reminder to stay gone.

The humans called wolves like him strays. But that indicated that he belonged somewhere, that he had just lost his way. Castiel was more of a bored feral tramp with a trust fund. He had never acclimated to city life, but he knew better than to try to make it outside the city on his own. Even for a fighter such as himself, that was a hard life, just waiting for a pack to claim him or kill him. He did not fancy the idea of being made the lowest ranking alpha in a pack, regardless of which family was leading it. Besides, if he had not enjoyed life at the top of the Argos pack, he was unlikely to fit in well in any other. The Argos wolves were the oldest and most powerful family in existence. Back many centuries ago when there had been nobles and royalty, they had been it. Now, they were wealthy beyond belief, and even the humans knew their scent because they smelled like money. Coming to the city to get away from the pack was pointless. There was no getting away from the Argos name. Even when he took on an alias, he was unable to fool any wolf with a working nose. So he had given up on being anonymous and had simply settled for being left alone.

Even that was impossible, since Michael refused to acknowledge his withdrawal from the pack. “You have a responsibility to your family,” the high alpha was rambling over the phone. “What do you think it looks like, one of the last true Argos wolves separating from the pack? I’ve a mind to cut off your accounts.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Do it! Cut me off! I want you to cut me off, Michael! Just release the hold on me getting a job!”

Michael growled over the line. It made Castiel cringe to hear it, even after all this time. “Anyone who allows for your employment will be ripped to shreds before a contract can be signed. Argos alphas do not work for others.”

“I’m not an Argos alpha, Michael.”

“You are!” the wolf snarled. “You have got to stop denying your heritage, Castiel! For your own sake as well as the pack’s. Your disloyalty will be forgiven. Just come back for the next moon.”

“Disloyalty,” Castiel spat defiantly. “After all I've given for you? Disloyalty? Really, Michael?”

“Yes! This is like Lucifer all over again!”

And that hurt. He had always known that was how Michael saw him, but he had never said it aloud before. “It’s different,” he muttered angrily.

“How? How is this different?”

“When I left the family, I didn’t tear it apart first,” he snapped. “I didn’t start a war!”

There was quiet on the other end of the line.

Castiel frowned. “Michael?”

“Raphael’s making alliances, Castiel.”

His breath caught in his throat. “He’s…he’s breaching the treaties? I don’t understand.”

“He has already secured the Vargr as allies.”

His mouth fell open, and he could feel his teeth wanting to emerge. “That cur is going to start the war again. And the Vargr? What the hell is he thinking? No one trusts the Vargr!”

Michael sounded weary now. “Wargs are entirely unpredictable,” he agreed. “But I suspect Raphael plans to absorb their number as soon as he has used them to win a war. Once he has deposed their high alphas, there won’t be a need to worry about their loyalty. They’ll belong to him.”

“You think he’s strong enough to take on all of the Vargr high alphas?”

“If he is strong enough to bring down the rest of Argos, Castiel, the Vargr will be just the first to go.”

“Lycan,” he breathed without thinking.

“Don’t curse, Castiel. It’s beneath you.”

The scolding brought him out of his blur. “What are you doing about it? About Raphael building up alliances?”

“The first thing I’m doing is trying to gather my strongest wolves back to me!” he snapped suddenly.

Castiel could practically hear Michael’s teeth sliding into position. He shivered. “Michael, you know me. If Argos ever needs me, I’ll be there. You know that.”

“We need you, Castiel. Have I not made that clear?”

“The fight hasn’t begun yet. Do what you can to stop it. But if it begins, I’ll be there. I have stood beside you all this time, Michael. I’m not going to let you fight without me. But I’m not coming home. I don’t belong there.”

Michael would never understand that. “Don’t belong? Of course you belong, Castiel! You belong to me!” he roared.

“No. I don’t. Michael, you’re my brother. You’ll always be that. But you aren’t my alpha. And Argos isn’t my pack. Have Gabriel howl when it’s time to fight. Until then, be well, brother.”

“Castiel-"

He hung up the phone and took several deep breaths. He undressed absently, then twisted into his wolf to pace the apartment. That was something he missed, and badly. It was not appropriate to run the city in wolf form. He jogged daily as a human, but he never got to stretch his legs as a wolf. He was tired of the suits that fitted his human form and his status as an Argos. He wanted to get his paws dirty again.

There was no place for a lone alpha to be. There was either wasting all natural talents and getting soft as a human in the city, or there was constant fighting for survival until finally succumbing to a pack by being claimed or slain out beyond the city gates. No town without a proper task force would allow a wolf more than a day’s pass, and so that left only the cities for wolves like him. Many wolves did not mind. They enjoyed living as humans, enjoyed the freedom and solitude. But others, like Castiel, desperately wanted to return to life in camps, where he could hunt and run. If he was honest with himself, he even missed being a part of something, being one among many.

But he did not feel comfortable living among his family’s pack. Every move he made was watched, weighed and calculated. The greater wolves demanded adherence to every tradition, no matter how antiquated, and those lesser than him always stared in awe and flushed every time he tried to speak to them. He was Castiel, a prince among them. It was lonely, in a way he instinctively knew packs were not meant to be. He was better off on his own than part of a complex system of rankings and posturing that did not even apply to modern life anymore.

He wondered if there were packs out there, perhaps smaller ones, which were more like true families than the bloated, feuding Argos clan. Not that Castiel knew what a true family was probably like. It just sounded nice.

Castiel curled up on his couch and licked at his paw sulkily. His brother Gabriel had always teased him that he was far more like a cat than a wolf, for which he had inevitably been served a nip to the neck and a moody growl. He missed Gabriel. He missed all of them. But he could not go home. He would not go home.

***


	3. Lone Wolf in a Big City

It was amazing how his brother could manage to smother him from so many miles away.

Sam watched his things being carried and arranged, locks being checked, windows darkened, kitchen being stocked. It was like Dean had assigned the whole damn pack to making sure Sam never had to leave his apartment for any reason. It completely defeated the purpose of going to the city, which was to walk among humans and loners.

Benny had already apologized for growling at the neighbor, but he sidled up to Sam contritely after ushering the others out. "I'm sorry again, Sam. It was completely out of line."

"I get it, Benny. It's no big deal. You were protecting me. I know that."

The eyes darkened sadly. "You ain't mine to protect, Sam. It was out of line." He sighed in frustration. "I just couldn't stand that he was scenting you like...like..."

"Like he was looking for an omega?"

Benny's teeth bared, but his face flushed. He controlled his teeth with great effort. "I'm sorry."

Sam put his long arms around Benny, and nuzzled his neck fondly. "Benny? If it had been anybody, you know it would have been you. Right?"

He could smell the wolf's grief. But Benny simply hugged him tightly, then pushed him away with an awkward laugh. "Don't go getting alpha scent all over your neck. The city mutts will think you're off the market."

He had not expected to get emotional. "I'm going to miss you. I'll see you for the moon. Take care of Lisa and her pups for me. Okay?"

Benny huffed. "You mean take care of the old man. I will." Then he got quiet and pushed a bit of Sam's hair from his eyes affectionately. "Sam? I think, um...I think I'm going to settle with Gwen. Get myself blood mated. What do you think?"

It was a good pairing. "Dean will be happy."

"I know he will."

"Will you?" Sam touched his face gently, looking into his eyes.

"Gwen's a sweet bitch. Hell of a fighter too. I'd be proud to give her pups."

Sam smiled, but he could not help noticing Benny had not answered the question. "And will you take an omega?"

The large wolf shook his head. "Soon as I find one that smells like Sam Winchester, I'll bond him," he laughed sadly.

"Benny, I'm sorry."

"I know you are. I'm glad you're doing what you want. Your alpha's gotta smell right to you too, and I don't. Wish to Fenris I did, but if wishes were fishes, we wouldn't hunt deer."

This brought a genuine smile and a stab of affection. He hugged Benny again, and this time, the alpha let him nuzzle.

It was lonely after they had all gone. He had notes from Jo about things he should do and see while in the city, but he was overwhelmed and homesick and a little bit afraid.

This was what he wanted, he reminded himself sternly.

That didn't make it any less scary, but it dampened down the urge to call Dean and tell him to send Benny back to get him.

The apartment was nicer than what he needed. He had never been in the city before. He had taken day passes to small towns, of course, but nothing like this. It smelled awful. How did loners live their whole lives in places like this? Sam rubbed at his nose in irritation. He had not noticed it so much when Benny and the others were there, but now it smelled like the most hollow, godless place he had ever known. Human things smelled confusing, and humans themselves were a disturbing mixture of meat-not-meat and mate-not-mate. They smelled like he imagined deer smelled to horses. Similar in some ways, and completely alien in others.

But Sam was not there to find a human.

He rubbed at his nose again and concentrated on filtering out the offensive scents to focus on any good ones.

That was how, in the middle of the night, he had ended up wandering nose first into a coffee shop attached to a bakery.

Sam loved the smell of baking bread and brewing coffee. He had one of the best noses in the pack, and he had sometimes stayed up till dawn to go for a run close enough to the towns to catch whiffs of the tendrils floating on the wind from bakeries. Dean had scolded him more than once for getting so close to the town lines, especially when out by himself, but he didn't care. No one was going to shoot him for sniffing the air two miles from the town line.

And here he was, in a city with so many loners that there were bakeries operating at three in the morning. It was the first thing to spark true excitement all night.

He ordered a sweetened coffee and a bit of bread with cheese baked into it. He handed over the card Dean had told him to use for everything, and watched with interest as the woman swiped it through her machine. He had purchased things before, in towns, but John or Dean had always given him currency for that. Apparently this card was all he needed in the city, and she gave it right back to him after using it. Huh. No wonder Dean had only given him one. He hoped it was that easy everywhere.

He was still staring at the card and waiting awkwardly for his coffee and bread when a very deep voice sounded behind him.

"First visit to the city?"

Sam turned, fear taking hold and telling him to be ready to fight. The smells he had enjoyed so much had masked the scent of the alpha sitting across the room. Sam could not remember being caught off guard before. He did not like it.

"It's all right. I'm not going to bother you. You just look a little in over your head. Considering your height, I imagine that doesn't happen often."

His voice was pleasant. He smelled like coffee and bread, so Sam could not determine anything from scent alone, not from this distance. But the voice.

"I'm new to the city. The city is new to me, I suppose."

When was the last time he had even spoken to someone outside the pack without one of his pack alphas there with him? Without Dean or Benny or even Garth or Christian?

He remembered to lower his gaze. It bothered him that he had to remember what had always been instinctive. He had not been away from the pack a full night yet, and already he was forgetting how to be a real wolf. Why was he even here?

"It's all right," the wolf said again softly. "I'm really not going to bother you. But if you need a friend in the city, I'd be happy to help. Don't have much else to do."

Sam took his drink and bread from the woman, and thanked her. He hesitated only a moment before going to sit across from the alpha. He set his things down, then took a deep breath in through his nose.

Alpha, unbonded, healthy, confident.

The alpha was scenting him too, he knew, though he was more subtle. He had once asked Dean what alphas registered when they smelled him. He had shrugged. "Omega, unbonded, healthy, sarcastic little shit," he had responded.

"Dean!"

His brother had laughed. "No, really. It's the same sort of thing you get. Less, probably. An omega has to find the right alpha. An alpha doesn't need the right omega. It's just bonus if he's got a great scent. We really don't care unless we are committing to a bond. So our noses don't give our brains all that much to work with. You, you can tell when the last time I nuzzled my pups was, but me? You're healthy and available. That's about it."

"Not even how I feel?"

Dean had considered. "Yeah. But not so much until we're bonded somehow. I don't get anything but strong, aggressive feelings from random omegas. Only my pack. Someone I've committed myself to protecting."

So he doubted this alpha was getting much more about him, not at first sniff, and not with so many other strong smells around. That was good. Sam never liked being at a disadvantage.

"I'm Castiel," the wolf said quietly in that warm, deep voice.

Castiel. That name was familiar. Why was it familiar? Sam's eyes widened then.

The alpha sighed as he saw the recognition.

"Castiel Argos?"

He nodded. "Yes. And you?"

Sam did not have to remind himself to lower his gaze now. Argos! A true Argos wolf sitting across from him in a coffee shop as if he weren't one of the most powerful wolves in the most powerful of packs.

"You have a name, I assume."

His mouth was too dry, but the coffee was too hot. He cleared his throat quietly. "Sam," he whispered. He hated that it came out as a tiny whine, but he couldn't help it. Had they been in wolf form, he would have been rolling over to show he understood exactly how strong the alpha was.

Castiel nodded. There was a weariness to it. "Sam. You can relax. I'm not the city mutt, nor the Argos, you've been warned about. I don't bite random omegas in the streets. I've got far more discipline than that. And I'm not likely to make war on your high alpha just because you neglect some ancient social etiquette which hasn't made sense in a hundred years."

He was not sure that meant he could relax. "Of course," he murmured. Why had he sat down here, trapped himself like this? Because the alpha told him to? Not even in words, but with his eyes, the way Dean had always directed him when they were not alone, the alpha had told him to join him at the table. And so he had, when he should have run instead. And Dean had warned him what could happen if he chose to obey, then followed up with defiance. The first was his choice, to obey or decline. But once he had chosen to obey, he dared not run now. John had explained to him years ago, and Dean had reminded him many times since, that this was the fastest way for an omega to get shredded, or worse.

Castiel sighed and took hold of his coffee. "I'm sorry to have bothered you," he intoned as he stood. "I'll leave you be."

Sam stared in shock. "No!" he heard himself say. "No, you haven't." When Castiel hesitated, he sighed. "I just...I'm in over my head, as you say. And you're right. I've been warned about...city loners." No matter how kind this wolf seemed, he was not about to call him a mutt, and he was not going to bring up the Argos name.

Castiel smiled finally. "With good reason," he said as he slipped back into the chair with enviable grace and composure. "Most of them didn't grow up as an Argos pup. They have very little regard for discipline. But you. You have a pack. I can tell. So why come to the city unescorted?"

His teeth went on edge at that. "I can take care of myself," he growled. Then his eyes dropped to the table as he realized he had just snarled at Castiel Argos.

But the older wolf was laughing. "I imagine you can, can't you? Good, then. The city mutts won't have a chance."

Sam relaxed a bit. He liked this wolf. In spite of his name and the expensive-looking suit, he was nothing like the cold, arrogant mafioso he had imagined. This was probably akin to what it would be like to run into Garth in the city.

He suddenly wished Garth was there. The slender, sweet alpha that had joined the pack as an older pup was worldly and street smart in spite of his goofy demeanor. Dean often sent him to the city for any supplies they needed, because he knew his way around and would not let some merchant cheat him. Of course, he also sent Christian so Garth's overconfidence didn't get him killed.

But Sam would have given anything to have Garth here now. Besides, Garth would have loved to have sat at a table and compared teeth and stories with Castiel Argos.

"You aren't eating," Castiel pointed out.

"Oh. No. Just..."

Castiel's smile was warm. "Smelling it?"

Sam nodded sheepishly.

"I was the same way my first week here. Nothing tasted right, but I wanted to smell everything. I found this place my first night too. Been coming here ever since. Seems like no matter what else I find in the city, I always wander back here."

"Do you miss..." He stopped, wondering if he were being too forward.

"Miss my pack?" Castiel laughed, but there was bitterness underneath. "Maybe I would if they ever left me alone." Then he shook his head. "No. I miss the territory more than anything."

It fell out of his mouth before he could bite it down. "But the city is Argos territory."

A sour look came over the wolf's face. "That's not exactly true. The city is neutral space. Run by humans."

"But everyone knows..."

There was a glint of teeth in Castiel's smile this time, and Sam's breath caught in his throat, and he dropped his gaze immediately. "It's neutral space," he corrected cooly. Then he cleared his throat and his voice returned to its earlier softness. "But that isn't what I meant. I miss the woods. You can't run as a wolf in the city. Nobody cares what your family name is when you're in your wolf. They shoot on sight. So I miss that. I was never meant to be a city mutt. I miss the chase."

Sam's smile was beyond his control. "I've only been gone a day and a night, and I already miss the chase. How do you do it?"

"Not very well," he laughed, sipping at his coffee. "But it helps to run in this form. It doesn't really scratch the itch, but it helps. Did you ever go along on hunts now and then?"

Sam frowned slowly. "Now and then? I'm on every pack hunt. If we're tracking, I lead."

The alpha's eyes widened, and there was a fascinated gaze weighing heavily on Sam now, which he did not understand.

"What?" he said self-consciously. He ran his tongue over the sharp points of his teeth, a habit John had knocked out of him as a pup, but which resurfaced when he was nervous.

Castiel shook his head. "I just...I never met an omega who hunted regularly. I certainly never met one that ever lead a pack hunt."

"Why wouldn't I?"

For the first time, Sam thought he detected the faint cloying scent of arousal from this alpha. "There's really no reason why not. It just doesn't happen. You have a very progressive high alpha, Sam. What's your pack name?"

"It's changed over the last few generations. We've lost our original along the way. We've splintered too many times, in order to keep our numbers comfortably small."

"What's the pack name, Sam?"

He took a breath. "Winchester. I'm Sam Winchester. My high alpha is-"

"John Winchester." Castiel's finger raised now. "No. His son Dean. Your cousin?"

"Brother."

Castiel looked as though he was recalling information which had fallen out of use a very long time ago. "Brother?" he said finally. "John only had a single son. The others were killed by a pack raid, along with his blood mate. Are you from a different litter?"

And now Sam's teeth were definitely on edge. He could not blame Castiel for his misinformation. "I'm a true Winchester," he snarled. "John's one and only litter by his blood mate. There were two that survived Azazel's attack. I'm the one that scarred the cur as a pup, and I'm the one that tracked him for my brother to tear his throat out."

The bright blue eyes were shining as Castiel did something Sam had never seen an alpha do for an omega, and which had certainly never been done for him. He watched in awe, his righteous anger melting away, as Castiel placed his paws out, palms up, and lowered his head and eyes in deference.

Sam's lips parted. His heart was beginning to race, and he was glad for the noise of the espresso machine, because it meant Castiel would not hear it. "Don't," he whimpered. "That's not for me."

The blue eyes sparkled. "That's for a pup not even out of the den tent, who defended his mother and left a scar on the face of a high alpha that lasted nearly twenty years, and for that same pup who grew up to track and hunt that same alpha in vengeance for his father. It's for a trusted and valuable pack member who leads hunts and obviously has the respect of his high alpha. That's for a warrior, regardless of his designation."

The large omega was filled with a mix of emotions. He was still intimidated by the gesture, meant only between alphas as a sign of deep respect, or for alphas acknowledging their pack's high alpha. But the words and sincerity with which Castiel spoke them filled his heart with pride.

He was a warrior, had been since six weeks old. Azazel had come like a coward at night while the pack was hunting, and slipped in to the camp. His pack had taken out two strong sentries and had injured or killed several others. They had come for Mary and her pups, to end John's line before it began. Without Mary, John might have other pups, but none would be true Winchesters. Any alpha pups and Mary were to be slaughtered, and omegas or females stolen. Sam would not even know he was a true Winchester now if they had succeeded in taking him. But he had fought next to his brother Dean for the first time in their lives, and Mary and her caretaker omega had torn Azazel's second to shreds before they had finished her. When Azazel had reached for Dean to strike a killing blow, Sam had left a deep bite across the older wolf's nose that had bled badly into those yellow eyes. It had given him and Dean just an instant, but it was long enough. John's hunters came barreling into the den tent and Azazel had flown with what remained of his pack and the pups they could carry from other litters in the camp that had been raided. Among John's pups were a dead female, two dead and one dying alpha males, a very angry, snarling alpha who was standing over his mother's body protectively, and a trembling omega with blood on his mouth.

This wolf understood how much courage it had taken for a small omega pup to defend himself and his pack from one of the most vicious raiders, a high alpha no less. It was Sam's first real memory, the fear of that night. Dean's first memory was the rage and the desire to protect their mother, the incalculable level of guilt for failing her and the other pups. John had told him he was just a pup, that none of the blame could possibly be laid at his paws, but Dean had felt differently. At least Sam knew what the cur's blood tasted like, Dean had snapped.

Catching that mongrel's scent again, so many years later, had sent Sam as close to a blood frenzy as he had ever been. He had gone to John immediately, pawing at his nose in fury. Like Dean, John knew Sam never spoke up in front of the pack unless he had something truly urgent to say. He had lowered himself to the ground in his wolf form, but even then, John could feel the trembling rage in his son. Dean had raced up to sniff at his brother curiously, and Sam had growled. It had shocked his alphas. Rather than discipline him, however, they took one look at his eyes and followed him to the tent Dean and Sam had shared as litter mates since they were six weeks old.

Sam had been reluctant to take his other form, but John ordered it impatiently. Dean quietly did the same, and Sam got them each robed before speaking.

"Sammy?" John had demanded. "You have a reason for showing your teeth to your alphas? If you were any other wolf, I'd have your ear in my bite right now."

"Yes, sir." Sam's eyes were low, but they remained filled with wrath. He kept his voice quiet in spite of the taste of blood around it. "I apologize. I didn't mean..."

"What's wrong, Sam?" John had asked.

"The scent. Can't you smell it?"

Dean's eyes narrowed. "The scent? _The_ scent?" he had repeated with emphasis.

Sam nodded, gaze low and vision blurry with the effort of keeping himself under control. He rubbed at his nose frantically.

The rumbling growl in Dean's chest was unmistakable. "Dad?"

John was frowning. He sniffed the air twice. "What scent, Sam?"

"The yellow-eyed wolf. It's here," Dean said for him. His claws were coming out.

Their father stared at them. "Azazel? He's in our space? Where? Sam, where?"

"At the border near the river."

"That's too far to be sure, Sam!"

It went against his every instinct, but Sam managed to meet John's dark gaze. "Sir? I've been waiting all my life to smell that cur again. I am sure. If you won't go yourself, let me. If I get myself killed, you'll only be out an arrogant omega. But I'd die to rip blood from that mongrel coward again."

Dean's eyes flew from his brother to his father. "No, sir!" he shouted. "Yellow Eyes would shred him! And I'm not standing here when I could be ripping that monster apart!"

But John's eyes were already gone with bloodlust. It was unlike anything Sam had ever seen, and he let out a soft whine of fear.

"No. You both stay here."

"Dad!" Dean screamed. Sam simply whimpered his frustration.

"Boys, stay. I mean it. Dean, take sentry. Get all the strongest watching the pups and new mothers. If we lose a single pup, Dean, I will rend you myself."

He glowered at his father, but choked out a "Yes, sir."

But Sam was defiant. "Dad! You can't do this on your own! We're better together, Dad, and you know it! We're strong enough, old enough! You can't lock us out of this one!"

"Sam, enough-"

"Dad, it's your kill, and we know that, but let us have your back! Please! Let us in!"

The snapping growl of John's wolf form was on him before Sam's eyes had even processed the change. He was on his back, prone and afraid, his snarl a mere instinct to cover his terror, and John's teeth were against his throat. Sam dared not breathe.

It was Dean's voice then. "Back off," he warned quietly.

John's teeth did not leave the skin, but his dark eyes flashed up at Dean.

"I mean it. Back off him. Now." Dean looked at his brother without really taking his eyes off John. "And you. Stay down."

Sam swallowed against the teeth. There was no doubt that he would obey that order. Azazel was one thing. Even Sam would never defy both John and Dean.

After a fraction of a second spent staring one another down, John gave. He narrowed his eyes at Dean meaningfully.

"I'll see to the sentries. Please be careful, Dad."

Sam was badly shaken, but he sniffed the air carefully. "I don't think he's got many with him," he whispered. "But they're moving fast. River border toward the old dens. Once they're in there, I wouldn't be able to smell them. So if I were him...that's where I'd hide out."

"Coward," Dean spat. "We'll all be safe here, Dad."

It was all John needed to hear. The wolf was gone in a flash, and it was the last time they had seen their father alive.

The story had poured out of him without him really even knowing. Castiel was staring in rapt attention, their coffee growing cold before them. There was something a bit feral in the way the wolf was smiling when Sam finally looked up from his own hands.

"Azazel must have tricked him. It's all we can figure. He was too strong and too smart. His pack had died out by then, which was why he was raiding in the first place. So he was alone. But my father should have been able to take him."

"A fight can go wrong in too many ways, Sam," Castiel said kindly. "Your father was known as a great hunter, and I have no doubt he gave the cur a vicious fight."

"He did," Sam said proudly, allowing the grief to slip into his voice. "After we'd found him, I was able to track Azazel during a wretched wind and rain storm in part because of all the blood he left behind him as he ran."

Castiel was impressed. "Another piece left out of common knowledge. You can track in a storm?"

Sam let his teeth bare slightly. "When I need to," he responded with cold passion.

"You have a lot of talent..."

He caught the hesitation. "For an omega?" he finished bitterly.

"For so young a wolf," Castiel corrected.

He released some of the tension in his shoulders. "I apologize. I'm not usually so defensive. Really. It's been a very stressful day."

"It's all right, Sam. You're used to having your pack near you."

He nodded miserably.

Castiel sipped at his coffee, then scowled at it as he realized it was cold. "Did you know humans got the idea for coffee by watching other mammals chew on the beans?"

A surprised smile came over him at the change of subject. "I didn't know."

"It's true."

As Castiel settled into a story which had nothing to do with pack dynamics, hunts, vengeance or bloody rainstorms, Sam felt his anxiety dripping away. He chuckled at Castiel's spikes of dry humor and asked questions when he did not understand some of the phrasing. Garth might have been proud of his omega cousin to see how well he was doing in a conversation with what was undoubtedly the most powerful alpha in the city.

By the time Castiel shook his hand and gave him a card with numbers on it, Sam was almost completely at ease in his presence. His sense of etiquette had returned, and seemed more natural, and Castiel was obviously a laid back alpha. When they stood to part, the older wolf clasped his left hand over their joined right hands, and smiled warmly.

"Sam Winchester, the omega with the warrior blood. It's been a pleasure to meet you."

After hours spent chatting with this wolf, Sam found he suddenly could not speak, so he simply returned the smile and nodded shyly.

Alphas should have the last words anyway.


	4. Comfort to Be Had

The big omega had not had the cunning to wait a few nights before calling the number on Castiel's card. It was endearing and refreshing for a wolf who had been raised among socialites and well-dressed thugs his whole life, taught to assume that everyone had ulterior motives and malicious intent. To them, everything in life, even war, was a game, and games were meant to be won. Relationships were meant to be won. Friendship was a contract to be negotiated, and the goal was to be the party that gained the most. It was exhausting.

Sam had been right, of course. The city was deep within Argos territory. The Argos suits controlled everything and everyone who came in or out, and that included humans as well as wolves. A quick call to Zachariah yielded information about the young omega he had talked with the night before.

"He's a true Winchester, but an omega. No threat, sir."

Castiel lifted a dark brow at that assumption, but he let it go. "And his papers?"

"Submitted by a Garth Fitzgerald Winchester, signed by the high alpha himself."

"Hm. By Dean Winchester."

"Yes."

"Anything else? What about this Garth? Do we know him?"

"A little. He conducts most of what little business we do with the Winchester pack. He used to belong to-"

"To the Fitzgeralds, I presume."

"Yes. After Raphael absorbed them, when he was an older pup, the Myers family took him in for a time. Was meant to be blooded to a bitch called Bess. But a feud broke the family apart."

"I seem to remember something about that. Religious fanatics or something. Argos took the territory, didn't we?"

Zachariah confirmed. "Anything else I can do for you, Mr. Argos?"

Castiel groaned inwardly. _Mister_. As if he were a human. Paper-pushing city mutts were so...distasteful. It was like they had entirely forgotten what it meant to be wolves. Some of them even worked during the day instead of at night.

"Mr. Argos?"

"No, thank you, Zachariah. Except...have you heard anything about Raphael gathering allies among the Vargr?"

"The Warg pack? Raphael is smarter than to let those flea-eaten mongrels in his bed."

"I thought so too. Just let me know if you hear anything of the sort."

Castiel hung up. He always felt like he needed to bathe after speaking with Zachariah. But his words about the Vargr weighed heavily on him. His experience as a member of the cleverest, most conniving family ever to walk on four and two legs made his paranoia flare instinctively at the conflicting information. Someone was wrong, or someone was lying. Wrong was unacceptable. Lying was tactical. Given these options, it was always more likely that a member of his pack was lying than incorrect. It made him angry just how much it did not surprise him that Michael was adjusting strategy to bring him home.

He had promised to meet Sam to go back to the coffee shop at dusk, and he puzzled things over in his mind as he walked the streets to his new friend’s apartment building. The omega was staring up at the sky when Castiel approached to find him already outside. He smiled in spite of his bad temper. Seeing Sam this way brought back memories of his own first moon cycle in the city, spent pining for open air and feeling caged.

He watched the young wolf for a moment before calling attention to himself. No matter how talented a nose the kid had, it could not pick him out among the smells around them, not in his second night in the city. Eventually, if he stayed long enough, his nose would adapt. But for now, it was overwhelming. So Castiel had the advantage and could watch him without Sam knowing he was being watched.

Castiel found himself wondering what the omega's wolf looked like. It was large, he assumed, especially for an omega. For the first time in a very long time, Castiel imagined what it would feel like to wrap into an omega's fur during the heat of the day, out in a camp, in a tent to themselves. Surely Sam was as warm and comfortable as an omega could be. Warrior or not, hunter or not, those hazel brown eyes were kind, and his touch was soft. He had noticed when he had shaken his hand last night that there was a great deal of strength there, but it was the gentleness that made Castiel's nose itch. He was too disciplined to put his muzzle into Sam's neck as another wolf might have done, but he would be lying if he pretended he were not tempted. There was comfort to be had there, comfort he had not sought in a long, long time, but which he had never really given up wanting.

Sam's eyes moved away from the sky now, and turned to squint at him.

Castiel was surprised, then flustered with embarrassment. Sam would not be able to smell him, per se, but his brain was catching the pheromones Castiel was putting out for the consumption of every omega in the vicinity. Where was a windy rainstorm when he needed one?

The young wolf's frown softened when he saw who it was. "Castiel," he called, with a shy wave.

"Hello, Sam," he murmured, letting his deep timbre carry his words for him. Either the omega was unaware of the bonding chemicals rushing toward him or he was misinterpreting them. Either way, Castiel was grateful.

And Sam was pleased to see him. He was too genuine to remain reserved in the presence of an Argos, too strong to be intimidated by his alpha status, and too naive to be coy. Refreshing. Everything about Sam was refreshing. Castiel had not realized just how sick of arrogant posturing and timid deference he had gotten.

Sam jogged across the empty street toward him like an enormous puppy. It reminded Castiel of the way some of his omega cousins hurried in for a nuzzle from him until Michael had put a stop to that as they got older. Castiel missed the intimacy and the innocence of it. He was tired of being above that sort of thing, too high ranked to be touched.

He wished Sam were looking for that too.

For that matter, what was Sam looking for? The Winchesters were the last pack he expected to see anywhere near the city, and for one of only two true Winchesters, an unbonded omega, to be wandering the city unescorted? What was Dean thinking?

And then it hit him like a kick to the chest, and his seething temper and paranoia from moments ago rose up in him until he was choking with it.

Sam was seeking a lone alpha. Dean had sent his own brother to pull in a lone alpha to bring back to the pack. His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared.

The omega saw the expression on his face change, and he stopped cold, flinching back a step. "What's wrong?"

Castiel stared at him, trying to get a scent to confirm or expel his suspicion. "Did you...did you know who I was before I spoke to you last night?"

"What? No. Why?"

Anger was rising in him, and he was shocked to find hurt among the dozens of emotions swirling in his mind. "Sam, what are you doing in the city?"

The hazel eyes were greenish today, and opened wide in surprise. He was the picture of innocence. "Have I done something wrong?"

Castiel's chest began to fill with hot breath. "What's wrong in your pack? Are you splitting again? Some kind of feud? That why you're hunting an alpha fighter? What's Dean thinking sending you after an Argos? Takes some real nerve to try to steal a true Argos, you know. And who did his research for him? That Garth guy? Probably paid one of my lesser cousins to talk about what I like?"

Sam blinked at him, then lowered his gaze out of the line of Castiel's rage. He was breathing shallowly, obviously trying to decide if running would get him killed at this point.

"Which cousin was it, then? Or is Raphael trying to thin Michael's pack? Raph and I spent time together as pups, he'd know what I want in an omega. No wonder they sent you."

Typical. Typical Argos family sniping.

"As if I would leave Michael's side for some male bitch! I don't care how good he smells or how good he looks. I don't care how well he fights or hunts. You go back and tell Dean Winchester that Castiel Argos is not interested in being stolen. I'm no lone alpha. I belong to Michael Argos."

But Sam's stare raised to meet his. It's ferocity made Castiel's breath catch. Teeth were gleaming in the lamplight, green eyes darkening with spite. "Some male bitch," Sam snarled.

Castiel was confused. Was Sam calling him...He stumbled backward then. _No_. That was what _he_ had just called _Sam_.

"Some male bitch?" he repeated. "That's what you think us talking last night boils down to? After I told you everything about Azazel and my father, after we exchanged hunting stories and talked all night long, you still think I'm nothing but my alpha's _whore_? You think Dean Winchester would need an omega to increase his pack, and that he'd choose an arrogant, self-possessed rich city mutt like an Argos, a dog among wolves, to send me after? We don't take males that are too used to being fed to know how to hunt!"

Castiel's fingers were splayed open with claws ready to rend, but he did not move to use them. Michael's words, spoken from his own mouth, rang in his ears. Had he actually said that? Had he actually acknowledged Michael's claim? What was wrong with him? His conversation with Michael had obviously twisted in his brain while sleeping the day before. It had made him paranoid.

Here was this omega, straight out of the woods, alone for the first time in his life, staring down the strongest alpha in the city, insulting the deadliest family. Sam knew he could be dead in a blink, but he was going down with his family's name on his lips and his own pride intact.

He had never wanted an omega more.

"Sam-"

"You think Azazel had an ugly scar, you mangy Argos mutt? Bring those claws closer. You'll see exactly why I'm unescorted."

He wanted him. _Fenris bless him_ , he wanted this omega. Cerebus could take Dean Winchester and Michael Argos, for all he cared. Alpha and omega distinctions be damned. Castiel wanted to belong to this wolf.

He displayed his hands to show that he was putting away his claws. Sam was staring at him. "I'm sorry, Sam."

The omega's beautiful mouth opened.

He took a breath. "I'm sorry," he said again. "Listen. Let me take you for coffee, and let me prove to you I'm not like this. That I lost my mind for a minute, but I'm not...this."

Sam shook his head. "No. You're exactly what my brother and cousins warned me about. Volatile, arrogant city mutt with something to prove. Hunting and snapping at city omegas because you could never catch a deer. Everybody knows you wouldn't survive out of the city, so you have to act dangerous inside the gates. An alpha with something to prove is the last thing any male bitch like me needs. Dean was right. I belong at home with my pack."

"Wait! Sam, please!"

It must have been the please. Sam had turned to stalk off, but now he whirled back, claws splayed and ready. "What?" He was shouting, but Castiel could hear the hurt underneath the anger and fear.

"Please," Castiel said again. "I don't know you well, and you don't know me well. But, Sam, I promise you that isn't me."

Sam lowered his eyes finally, and Castiel guessed they both felt better about that. "What are you, then?"

The older wolf shrugged sadly. "Lonely. Bored. And so, so tired of the pack wars. I lost my blood mate years back, because a brother from the first litter of my generation wanted to punish another."

Sam frowned, but his stance softened a little. "I don't understand."

"Neither do I. Despite what you think of city mutts, I'm an exceptional fighter, and a decent hunter. Raphael was angry that Michael had successfully claimed me for his side during the civil war, so he ended my line. Killed my Anna."

The eyes were instantly filled with sorrow. Castiel took a shuddering breath. He'd been right. There was comfort to be had there.

"I left after that. Michael has been after me to return all this time. He doesn't truly want me. He just doesn't want Raphael to have me. He doesn't need me to fight for him, but he is terrified I will fight against him."

"Are you that good?" Sam whispered.

Castiel let out a bark of laughter. "I'm good," he said quietly. "He's even gone so far as to have omegas sent to me as offerings, or to try to convince me Raphael is about to move on the pack any moment. The latest ploy was to tell me Raphael is gathering the Vargr to him."

"The Vargr don't ally with anyone. They raid."

A choking sound came from Castiel's throat. "I know that. But when your high alpha, your brother, tells you that your family needs you to defend against traitors and raiders, do you know what it feels like to say no? I'm not a coward, Sam. But I'm so tired."

The omega's hand was on him then, touching his cheek softly.

Castiel turned his head toward Sam's wrist, breathing in his scent shamelessly. Sam let him. He apologized anyway. "I'm sorry. It's inappropriate. After what I said, after what I called you..."

"Let's get coffee. I want you to tell me about Anna."

He flinched. "I can't talk about it, Sam. What he did to her."

"Shh. No. I mean tell me about Anna. About how she came to be your blood mate. About why you love her so much even now."

Gratitude nearly knocked him to his knees, but he found a strong arm around his waist, leading him to where they had met the night before.

The night before? Had he only had this scent raking at his will for one night and a day? This wolf, who smelled so wonderful and who felt so strong and who asked about his Anna, had he only known him since last night?

Well. He had known Anna for less when he knew he wanted her forever. It should not have surprised him, then, that this omega had gotten under his skin so quickly. Castiel had his scent, and it was all he needed.

***

"When you coming home?"

Sam smiled. "Hello to you too, Dean."

"I'm serious. Tent's cold. Just come home."

It was as close to affection as he was going to get, but he would take it. _Tent's cold_ meant, "I miss you. I want you here by my side. I worry about you. I'm stronger with you here."

"I know," Sam replied. "Bed's cold here too. How are Lisa and the pups?"

"She says I need to stop stalking the den tent. She’s threatening to stripe my nose if I don’t leave her alone or if I wake up the pups again just to check on them.”

Sam burst into laughter. "What do you expect? Moving them place to place, keeping them on lockdown...You do have them on lockdown, right?"

"Of cour-Shut up, Sammy."

He chuckled, but his voice was soft. "Dean, it's what Dad did. To us, to every litter in the pack. You said you weren't going to do this."

"I can't help it, Sam. That thing came in and attacked the most sacred thing any pack owns, in the place that should have been the safest. Came for the pack’s pups in their den tents. Got past every nose but yours."

Sam frowned. "Mine? What's that mean?"

"You don't remember?"

"I was six weeks, Dean. I couldn't even change out of my wolf yet."

"Well, I remember. Middle of the night. Nap time while Dad and the hunters were out. You woke us all up whining, and Bobby kept telling you to shut up and go back to sleep. But you were a stubborn little shit. Finally, Johnny and me went to smack the shit out of you, and I heard Rufus howl an alarm. Everybody was up then, but it was too late. You, me and Bobby would be as dead as the rest of them if you hadn't woken us up whining. Mom and Bobby had enough time to get to their feet before the two mongrels hit the tent, and they took out the first one."

"I didn't remember that."

"You must have saved my ass three times that night. Once with your whining. Then I was stupid enough to think I could help Mom, and you smacked me so hard I fell under Uncle Bobby before Yellow Eyes could see me. So pissed at you. I must have been nine years old before I stopped being pissed at you for that. You got me pinned under Bobby while I could hear our litter mates whining for us. Fenris help me, I will never get those whines out of my head."

Sam's eyes closed. "I know. Me neither."

"But you were right. Always the smart one. They already had Johnny and the others, and there wasn't anything I could do but die with them, but I was determined to do at least that. You knocked my ass across the tent under Bobby so Azazel thought he'd killed every alpha."

"I don't think I meant for you to get pinned there. I just wanted Bobby between you and Yellow Eyes. When Bobby went down, I figured we were all dead anyway."

"But you kept fighting. Damnedest thing I ever saw, then or since. This little runty omega snapping at the nastiest alpha raider. Took a chunk out of the thing's nose when he tried to shred me. Damn, I was proud of you."

Warm pleasure filled his heart at the words. "Yeah, well, if I remember right, you dragged my ass out."

"Only because you stood in front of me till the pack showed up. You got the shit knocked out of you so bad, it would've killed any omega whose head wasn't so hard! Soon's Rufus got me out from under Bobby, I could hear Dad shouting at me to take Sammy and run, fast as I could. So I did. And you were a heavy runt, so you better appreciate how much effort that took."

He smiled softly. "How do you remember all that? I just remember how scared I was and you standing on Mom after she went down, and thinking to myself that you looked like you were going to try to take on Yellow Eyes yourself."

"Might've if you hadn't tossed me at Bobby."

"Guess I'd forgotten all that."

Dean huffed. "You got your head knocked pretty bad that night. You're lucky you even woke up. When you did, you were covered in Azazel's blood. Anyone looking at you would think you had killed him."

"Kill belongs to my alpha," he said fondly.

"Damn straight. But I wouldn't have been alive to take the kill, and I would never have been able to track him in the rain like that, if it weren't for you."

As much as the praise settled into his heart, he frowned a bit. "Dean, no one can hear you, right?"

"No. And I know what you're hinting, and I don't care."

"You should care."

"I don't. There isn't a wolf in the pack who doesn't know I'd follow your nose into battle any day. Maybe I give the orders, but you're the best damn fighter I've ever seen, and I got no problem with anyone knowing it. I'm a grunt, Sammy. They can call me high alpha all they want, but I ain't Samuel, and I ain't Dad. I ain't even me without you there beside me. So I'm gonna ask you again. When you coming home?"

It was only a week into the moon cycle. Sam had planned to travel the city, enjoy his freedom and new foods, meet new people and take in new entertainment. Instead, he had spent every night sitting in the same coffee shop, hour after hour, with the same alpha. Eight nights now, they had met there, or Castiel had come to his apartment building to walk him there. Sam could smell his approach now. There were lots of bad smells in the city, and a few really nice ones, but none were like Castiel. The older wolf smelled so incredible that it blocked everything else from his senses. Sam lay awake during the day trying to define the smell that lingered on his clothing after spending the night with him. Castiel had hugged him gently the night before, and he had spent the day sleeping as his wolf wrapped around the sweater he had been wearing during the contact, breathing the scent for hours. Some part of his brain had become confused as he slept, because he had been crushed when he had awoken to find himself alone. He had indulged in several soft whines, which no one else would have been able to hear.

In eight short nights, Sam had chosen.

“Dean?” he murmured. “I called for a reason.”

There was hesitation on the other line. Then Dean cleared his throat. “All right. What do you need?”

“I don’t need anything.”

“What then?”

He could hear the trepidation in his brother’s voice. “Dean, I think I found what I was looking for.”

Dean’s frown was practically audible. “What, already?”

“Didn’t you know about Lisa in the first sniff?”

There was nothing that Dean could argue about that. “Maybe,” he admitted. “But who is he?”

He licked his lips. “I…I don’t want to…”

Suddenly, it was his alpha’s voice and not his brother’s which responded. “Who is he, Sammy? Tell me his name.”

Sam swallowed. “His name…Dean, it doesn’t matter, okay? Because he isn’t like the others.”

“His name!” Dean snapped.

“Castiel Argos.”

The line went silent. Then, a flurry of activity. “I’m sending Benny to get you. Benny! Get in here!”

“Dean, no!”

“Then I’ll come myself! If you’re serious, and you’re hanging out with Castiel freaking Argos, I’ll knock you out and drag you into the back of the truck if I have to. You lock your door and do not leave that room until I get there. I’ll tag your ear if you make me hunt you down in that city. Stay where you are. Fenris Lycan, Sam! What the hell? You know how dangerous they are!”

“Not this one!”

“Especially that one! Don’t you know who he is?”

Sam took a breath. “What do you mean?”

“You’re going back to get Sam. Load the truck. Get Christian and Travis.”

Tears stung Sam’s eyes. “Dean! Talk to me! What’s wrong?”

“Castiel Argos is Michael’s First Claw.”

A wave of fear washed over him then. “First Claw? You mean…”

“I mean he’s an executioner, Sam. He’s the one Michael sends after packs he wants punished. He’s the one who-No! No omegas on this trip. And load with silver. Bring me my Colt. I’ll tell you on the way.”

The line went dead in his hands. Sam stared at the phone. He did not need the rest of Dean’s words to know what he would have said. “He’s the one Michael sent to kill Lucifer.”


	5. First Claw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel is visited by an older brother.

Gabriel's suit fit entirely too well for Castiel's taste. "How do you even shift?" he laughed.

His elder brother looked down. "Whattya mean?"

"For Lycan's sake, Gabe. If you tried to shift in that vest, you'd pull a muscle!"

Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows. "Every bitch likes a sharply dressed wolf, Cassie."

"I know a few who would shred any alpha who showed up looking so comfortable as a human."

"You ain't dressed so shabby yourself, little bro."

"So how's tricks?"

Gabriel gave him a yellow-brown glare. "Don't think I can't tag you." But he lost interest in the banter and put his feet up on the table, crossing at the ankle.

Castiel made a face. He was not entirely sure he could even do that on two legs, so how it could be comfortable, he couldn't guess.

"So Michael claims Raphael is getting more ass than a-"

"And you believe that?" Castiel had grown quite good over the years at anticipating Gabriel's colorful metaphorical statements and cutting them off without losing track of the conversation.

"Whattya mean do I believe it? Raph's making new friends. What's to believe?"

He sighed heavily. "It's Lucifer all over again."

Gabriel looked at him with a unreadable expression. There was not a wolf out there who could hide his true feelings the way Gabriel Argos could. Castiel had thought as a pup and a young alpha that it was a sign that Gabriel was as shallow as he smelled. But he knew better now. When Lucifer had torn their family asunder over the pettiness with Michael, no one had suffered so grievously as Gabriel. Castiel had seen the heartache in his brother's eyes, even when he smiled. He wondered if Gabriel's method of keeping his emotions from his scent had something to do with denial.

"That's what Mike says about you, you know."

"Oh, I'm aware. Don't call him Mike. He hates that."

"Why do you think I call him that?"

"Me leaving the pack to live alone is nothing like what Lucifer did to him. To us."

"Funny but it's still Ragnarok and roll to me. Different band but the same tired old song."

"It isn't the same, Gabriel."

The older alpha sighed a bit. "Cas, what was the last thing Lucifer said to you?"

"I don't remember."

"Of course you do."

Castiel stared through his apartment window as if he could still see his brother snarling and laughing at the same time, while he bled from the mouth. "He said he didn't understand why I was fighting him. That we aren't so different. He was reviled for wanting to leave Argos and he knew I wanted to do the same thing."

"Was he wrong? I mean, come on. He was our brother, and I loved him. But he was a great, big bag-"

"Enough. Don't judge him for doing what you have always been too cowardly to do. Don't judge me because you're too much of a lap dog to stand up to your family."

Gabriel could only be pushed so far before he snapped. In an instant, he found his own nose an inch from his older brother's snarling teeth. "You listen to me, you arrogant dick. Have you stopped to think about the humans?"

Castiel did stop. "What? What are you-"

"Why do you think I went with you to take out Lucifer? Don't you think that was the hardest thing I've ever done in my whole damn life? I loved my litter mates! Loved them! But watching them turn on each other? Tear at each other's throats? I couldn't bear it, okay? And now it's happening all over again. I have to sit back and watch my brothers kill each other! This isn't about a war! It's about three litter mates who loved each other and betrayed each other. It's gonna end bloody for all of us. That's just how it's got to be. But how many humans are hurt in the process? How many omegas and bitches and pups just minding their own business? I'm not on Michael's side-I'm not on anybody's side! I was against the first war, and I'm against the next one. Don't you ever, ever presume to know what I am."

With great effort and willpower he did not know he had, Castiel put away his claws and let his teeth recede into the pockets of his gums. He took a deep breath through his nose, and could smell nothing but grief and loneliness on the older wolf. There was no real bite to Gabriel. There never had been, not when it came to his brothers, especially his litter mates. That was why Michael had sent Castiel for Lucifer, not Gabriel. When the time came, Gabriel would have hesitated, and Lucifer would have mauled him. Castiel was First Claw for a reason. He did not hesitate, and he finished the job he was given.

But that was long ago. Back when he still thought he could keep Anna and the rest of the pack safe by eliminating Michael's enemies. He knew better now. The wars would never end. But his involvement in them could. If Michael was attacked, he would help defend the pack. But he would not take action against Raphael first. Not like he had with Lucifer, at Michael's order. He was done with that.

"How many brothers do we have to kill, Gabriel? How many families can one family split into? And over what? Money? Drugs? Alpha fight rings? Gambling houses? Human things! Wolves don't need those things, Gabe. Wild things like us shouldn't be forced to live in cities just to get away from wars beyond our own nature."

Gabriel nodded slowly. "Michael isn't worried about the Vargr, Cassie."

"Of course he isn't! They don't build alliances! It's all a ploy to see if I'll come home, and I've shown him I won't. Unless Raphael lays into the pack, I'm not coming home to fight for Michael or anyone else!"

"He isn't worried about Raphael. He's got him under control for now."

Castiel frowned, suddenly feeling as though the apartment were far too cold. "Then what...?"

"The family is afraid you've opened a gateway to doubt and disobedience in the pack. That others might follow your example. Many of our cousins look up to you."

"I'm not even in contact with anyone except you and Michael. What are you...?"

Gabriel's smile was sad, and he moved to stand as if he were far older than Castiel knew him to be. "When Lucifer left the pack, Michael sent you to end a war. He's sending me to prevent one."

Castiel's blue eyes widened as realization bloomed.

The wolf shrugged with the same regretful look in those whiskey brown eyes. "I'm here to kill you, Cassie."

***


	6. Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loyalties are tested...

The entire run to Castiel's apartment, Sam silently cursed being limited to two legs in this godless, unnatural place. He could not even remember the last time he had run in this form. During one of their coffee shop talks, Castiel had said that he jogged at least once every night to release some of the fever brought by the restrictions on taking his wolf to stretch his legs. It was another example of Castiel fitting badly in the city.

Just like him.

Castiel needed to run and hunt, just like Sam. He enjoyed things like coffee and the smell of baking bread, but it was nothing compared to fresh air in his lungs. Castiel claimed to be content, but Sam had smelled-had felt!-how the older wolf craved a return to his true nature, to life in a camp. Not the Argos camp, which was strafed with scars of war, with snarling pack mates and too human greed. Sam had seen into Castiel's heart, and he knew he was aching for the life Sam had lived. The Argos might be powerful but they had lost their way. Somehow, over the generations, they had forgotten themselves.

Castiel was not one of them. No matter what Dean said.

He had been to Castiel's apartment only once before. On the fifth night they had spent talking, Castiel had received a call from a cousin who was trying to deliver something to his building, expecting him to be home. So there had been no long, lingering, unhurried goodbye as on other nights, and Sam had felt cheated. It could not be called his proudest moment, but he had followed the wolf at the furthest distance that he could still smell him. Like many alphas, Castiel tended to brush his fingers across objects as he walked, likely without even noticing. The lamp posts and gates were not trees, but they were the same to a wolf whose instinct demanded he protect his territory. Sam had been filled with affection to see that Castiel did this even after so long in the city. And it helped him find his way by scent now in this confusing environment where straight lines and sharp angles were preferred over natural curves.

Dean's words pounded in his head as he ran. Silver. Colt. No omegas. Dean was bringing his most vicious alphas. This was no supply run.

Sam was fast in his wolf, but this form was unpracticed. Two legs were for talking, for wandering the camps, for driving if necessary. They were not used for running. But his were long and he was determined. He knew just how much time he had before Dean arrived at the apartment and caught his litter mate's scent to pursue.

His omega instincts were playing out all wrong, and he knew it. His alpha had given him an order, a simple order to stay. But here he was, tearing through the city toward an alpha he had known only a quarter cycle, and it felt right.

Castiel felt right. Like no other, not even dear, sweet, strong Benny, Castiel felt right. Smelled right.

His feet leapt up a set of stone stairs and he pounded at the door. When two precious minutes passed, he looked carefully at the lock and rolled his eyes. He could have been in a minute and a half ago. He extended a claw and worked at the bolt and spring the way he had been taught to do, the way John had taught every pup to do. No cage would ever hold a Winchester wolf.

Once he was in the building, he hesitated. There were so many smells here, it was overwhelming. But he closed his eyes and did what Sam Winchester did best. He blocked out everything else and focused on a single scent.

That was when it hit him.

There was not just one. There were two. Two alphas with very similar scents, except one screamed _mine_ and the other _threat_.

Sam's teeth bared without a thought. Somewhere nearby, his alpha needed him.

All clear thought left him as he let scent and instinct lead his way. He found himself at a door with one clear marking scratch in it, signifying a wolf's residence. From inside, he could hear sounds that made his blood run cold. It was the snarling, snapping and crashing of two alphas tearing one another apart.

This time, Sam did not bother with the lock. There was one thing that was easier on two feet, and his size and strength made it especially easier for Sam. He raised one knee and threw his weight at the door, feeling it give and fly open. He had shifted to his wolf before his foot even hit the ground again.

He had never seen Castiel's wolf before. It was large but lithe, black as night, fur wild, eyes the most cutting blue ever seen in a lupine beast. The other alpha was lighter and smaller, but obviously older. His teeth were slashing at Castiel's throat.

Sam's fur stood on end, and there came a deadly rumbling from deep inside him. That cur had his teeth against his alpha's throat.

Before either of them had noticed him, he had thrown his significant weight into the older wolf, sending him crashing and rolling across the apartment into one of the only pieces of furniture Castiel owned, a strong table. The threat gave a yelp of surprise which mixed agonizingly with a whine of pain.

In the moment he was granted, Castiel regained his feet and panted, trying to understand what had just occurred. His fur was matted with blood, and there was a deep gash in his throat, but Sam thought he seemed steady on his feet.

The omega took a stance between the two alphas as the older one rolled shakily to a stand and stared at him, too surprised even to growl. Then it sniffed and snorted, and flattened its ears again. Sam mirrored the posture angrily.

To the shock of both the light alpha and the grey brown omega, a deep, growling voice spoke behind them.

"Stop! Gabriel, please! Don't hurt him."

The wolves did not take their eyes off one another, but each looked unsure now.

"Please."

Sam's sharp ears could hear the slide of fabric over skin as Castiel robed himself behind him.

The older alpha flicked his eyes between the big omega and his opponent.

"Please," Castiel said a third time, and Sam's pride rankled with it. He hated to hear his alpha asking like that, especially on behalf of Sam's own safety. But he kept his eyes on the threat, calculating exactly what it would take to get his teeth into this alpha's throat. Even if this wolf killed him, he was not going to move from between them, not while his alpha was injured. Not while he could smell blood, and all he could feel in his whole being was the desire to warm Castiel and lick his wounds, and never ever let him out of his tent again. If this cur needed to kill Sam in order for Castiel to catch his breath before fighting again, he would gladly die, and he would fight viciously until he did.

"Gabriel, stop. I'll go back to Michael. He can do what he needs to if he truly thinks I'm a threat to him. But this omega is under my protection. I can't let you hurt him. I don't want to have to kill you, Gabe, please. He's one of the innocent omegas you say you want to save from all this!"

It took no more than ten seconds for the older alpha to decide. But in that time, Sam made peace with his own decisions. Dean would not understand, but that was all right. There was a lot Dean did not understand. But he would not be foolish enough to attack Argos wolves in his grief over a lost litter mate. If it were just the two of them, there was no doubt, but Dean had a whole pack to protect, and warring on the Argos was suicide. Perhaps he could kill these two alphas, but once word reached Michael, Dean's pack would be crushed without mercy. If this was truly Gabriel Argos, he was a litter mate of the most powerful of all high alphas. Michael would not take kindly to someone slaughtering his brother, other than himself. So Dean would be devastated, but he would return and be safe.

Sam was ready to die. He just hoped to make his alpha proud by dying like a Winchester, with claws and teeth ripping.

So it took a moment for his brain to process that Gabriel was shifting. For one thing, it was such a graceful, almost elegant shift that part of Sam was mesmerized by it. Gabriel did not simply contort onto two legs. It was more like a human dancer's stretch. The fur morphed to soft skin and his face became gentle, even as he breathed too shallowly. And when Sam sniffed the air, he found no anger there. There was only sorrow. Castiel said he did not want to kill Gabriel. But Sam could sense that Gabriel had stopped caring if he did.

"Get your pup out of here, Cas," the alpha sighed wearily.

"Gabriel, talk to me!"

The older wolf dressed quietly, swiping annoyed fingers at superficial injuries.

"Sam, come to me."

The omega cocked his head at the threat in confusion, then obeyed his alpha. He hurried to where Castiel had fallen and was sitting at the edge of the bed, gripping his throat to stop the bleeding. Sam's eyes went wide, and he put two paws up on Castiel's legs to nuzzle and sniff at the wounded neck. He knew he had no right to it, not without permission, but he could not help licking to clean the slash.

Castiel gasped sharply at the ministrations to his wound. But he took Sam's face in his hands and looked into his worried, heartsick eyes. "No, Sam. Stay." He stood and left Sam at the bed.

The whine was involuntary. But it was so intense that he saw Castiel flinch and close his eyes against the heartbreaking sound.

Gabriel shook his head. "For Lycan's sake, Cas. When did you get yourself bonded?"

Castiel's voice was quiet. "I haven't. Not really."

"All but. You know how much harder this is now? I can't kill you while this stupid pup is making that awful sound!"

"Was it easy before?"

Gabriel laughed without humor. "You know it wasn't. If it were easy, I'd have done it the minute I walked in. Michael's had enough, Castiel. I've had enough. I just want it to be over."

Castiel gestured vaguely to their surroundings. "And you think this is what I want? A studio apartment overlooking the big city? We're wolves, you ass! We aren't meant to be assassins and loan sharks and drug cartel princes! We're meant to live in packs of dozens, not among hundreds! A pack is meant to be all together, not sent to the four corners to protect and administrate an ever-growing, too-large territory! We're meant to work with humans to our mutual benefit and survival, and to protect them against larger threats, not to participate in and feed their vices! Fenris help us, Gabriel, we aren't meant to be the monsters in the night. We were meant to be the guardians of it!"

Sam whimpered at the pain in his alpha's voice, but his eyes widened as Gabriel allowed tears to stream down his face.

"I'm tired, Cas. I just want it to be over."

"It will never be over, Gabriel! Four alphas born to a single litter. Didn't you ever think the pack was meant to split four ways? As the prophets told us-"

"Fenris, Father of Wolves, Son to great Loki, lies ever growing, until he grows so large as to break through the chains that bind him, until the day he rends open his hungry jaws and his nose reaches the sky and his chin the ground, and he swallows whole the All Father and brings the world to tremble with his growl, and all is torn asunder by his claws."

Sam stared in awe at the alpha as he recited the great prophesy in a sad, weary tone that made the young wolf afraid at his deepest layer.

"Gabe, Raph and Michael believe it is a mandate for wolves to swallow up the world. It isn't. It's a warning. Even great Fenris can be chained, and he was chained for a reason. Because the moment he comes free, he will bring about the destruction of everything. If Raphael thinks nothing of clawing my sweet, brave Anna, his own cousin, to shreds, he will think even less of bringing on the suffering of every human in the wake of the massive war he and Michael want so badly. Packs are meant to split before they break. Lucifer was angry not to be high alpha. He was vain and hurt, and he wanted to break all of Daddy's toys. Raphael is the same. Michael will stop at nothing to keep together a pack which should have splintered generations ago. He proves that by sending you to kill me, his First Claw, who has fought by his side for so many years, and who murdered his litter mate under his orders. Forgive me if I choose freedom and friendship with an extraordinary young omega over my own family."

Gabriel was smiling even through the tears. "He is an extraordinary omega, Castiel. Have you ever known one that would get between two alphas like that? One that would fight like that?"

"Never," Castiel agreed softly. "He's from a proud family, and he represents them with more courage than any alpha ever could."

Sam found he could not breathe. The praise sunk into his skin, deep into his blood. His alpha was proud of him. He had brought his family honor. Castiel was not angered by his interference but admired it. It was more than his poor heart could stand.

"Which family, Castiel?"

"You know I'm not going to tell you that."

Gabriel nodded. "Of course. Castiel, you need to understand something."

"I'd like to, Gabriel. I'd like to understand how a brother I fought and killed with more times than I want to remember, the same one who pranked me mercilessly when I was a pup and who taught me family was more than a business association, the same one who I know in my heart feels the same as I about the Argos pack having become more powerful and yet weaker in every way that matters...How could that same brother come for my throat?"

Sam padded quietly to sit at Castiel's feet, hoping to give his alpha some sort of comfort, and wanting still to be between them while his throat was bleeding. All thoughts of Dean and his cousins' approach had flown from his head. As long as the smell of that blood was in the air, he would not be able to think of anything else.

"Castiel, if you kill me, I won't be able to report back to Michael. So kill me."

Sam's eyes narrowed suspiciously. What was this? Was this some sort of trick? Why couldn't Argos mongrels fight like wolves instead of talk like humans?

But his alpha was shaking his head. "No, Gabriel. I brought down Lucifer because I believed in Michael's orders. I won't kill you for believing in them too."

"He will kill me if I don't take you out, Cas. And I'm the only thing between him and the destruction of the humans we should be protecting. You're right, Cas. We are meant to be the guardians, not the monsters. It's why I can't leave Michael's side, and why I can't refuse his orders, even when it comes to you. Raphael won't listen, but Michael can keep him and his pack in check. It's the devil you know, Cas, and Michael is better than nothing. Cerebus take me for it, but Michael is the better of the two, and I will do as he orders. I don't want to, and I sure don't want to do it in front of him. But I'm here to kill you, Cassie."

"Not unless you're willing to go through five of the Winchester pack alphas and its strongest omega. If you can."

At the first syllable, Gabriel and Castiel whirled at the broken door in shock, but Sam simply sighed with bone-deep relief.

Dean stepped in on two legs, Colt tucked into his thigh holster, but a squadron of cousins crept in on all four to circle him, all with bared teeth and scraping, restless claws. Sam thought he had never been so glad to see them in his life, nor had he ever seen his brother look quite so terrifying.

"Sam?" Castiel hissed in alarm.

The darkest wolf crept to Sam's side and stood ready to leap at the throat of any who came near. Sam felt a wave of love for his pack crash over him as Benny stared evenly, not at Castiel, but at Gabriel. He knew Benny would like to tear them both to pieces. But his old friend could smell the affection Sam was radiating for the blue-eyed wolf, and he would never hurt anything that Sam cared about. Not unless it tried to hurt Sam first.

Dean gave Gabriel a cold look. "Your move, buddy."


	7. The Three Heads of Cerebus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel is worried about what Michael will do to punish the Winchester pack for its interference.

If Anna could see him now, what would she say?

Castiel had lived his life by that question for four long, lonely years. Every decision he made boiled down to that one question. _What would Anna say?_

He and Anna had not agreed about everything, certainly. In fact, Anna might have gone with Lucifer when he broke apart the family, if it weren't for Castiel's devotion to Michael. Lucifer had wanted her to leave Castiel behind. She refused, of course, and he would never know if she would have left Argos if Castiel had not been a factor. It did not matter. Anna and Castiel disagreed about many things. But she remained his guiding star long after her death. What would Anna think of him?

Once Anna had recommitted herself to Castiel, and therefore Michael, she had never looked back. She had fought bravely by his side, and he had trusted her instincts like he trusted few others. When she had killed the traitor Uriel, who was picking off Michael's alphas from inside their camp, she had done so with beautiful, cold ruthlessness in spite of their years spent together as friends. She had done it when Uriel came for Castiel, and she had done it with Castiel's own silver dagger. Castiel had never been more unashamedly awed by a female as he had been with Anna that day she had saved his life. Uriel had barely hit the ground before he had asked her to be his blood mate.

Castiel was the most capable fighter in the Argos pack. He was a competent but mediocre hunter. Tracking was not his forte, and while he could move like a whirlwind during close combat, so quick he could barely be seen, he would never claim to be a particularly fast runner. Scouting was not like stalking, and he found the former boring. He enjoyed hunts very much, but he had always relegated himself contentedly to a support role until it came down to the kill. He was a fair hunter at best. And he did not take kindly to being the hunted.

What would Anna say? She would tell him to shove a silver dagger into Gabriel's heart so he could never hunt him again.

But that was a different life, a different world. Anna would barely know him now, and that was the sad truth. The Castiel that Anna had respected and loved was gone, broken apart by what her death had done to him. He could not kill Gabriel. He would die first.

But he would not let Gabriel harm Sam. When he had felt the explosion of Sam's wolf into his brother's, he had been sure it was Cerebus coming to take him. But when his mind adjusted to the new dynamics, his heart had gone into a frenzied panic. His earlier goal of surviving Gabriel's melee without having to kill him was scrapped in an instant. Now every thought was Sam. It had thrown him from his wolf and ripped a _please_ from his throat.

It had been the only option available which would save Sam from Gabriel, and also not end with the death of a truly loved older brother. So he had surrendered.

What would Anna say?

He had pleaded for Sam. He could feel the loathing from the omega as he begged for Gabriel to spare them each from what Castiel would be forced to do if Gabriel laid a claw on Sam. The omega, who was so full of courage, not fearless but brave and ready to fight to the death-he was ashamed of Castiel's pleas. The pain of knowing he was disappointing this fiercely loyal omega made Castiel want Gabriel to succeed in his mission.

The sad irony, of course, was that he could smell the same thing emanating from his brother, the same desperate desire to be finished. Neither of them wanted to survive an encounter which had pitted them against one another.

When Sam had tried to treat his wound, it had hurt down to the bone to realize how good it felt. The physical pain made him gasp, but the touch of comfort and concern had shocked him to his core. It had taken every bit of strength he had ever had to tell Sam no, to stay. The sound which had come from Sam had shaken him worse than Gabriel's teeth at his throat.

He would never have revealed Sam's pack name to Gabriel. He knew Michael. He knew what Michael did to packs that interfered with private Argos business. Under torture, he never would have given up Sam's name. He owed him at least that.

When Gabriel had stated his intentions again, Castiel had wondered if it wasn't just as well that he was ended today before he could bring Sam more pain or danger.

But then the world had turned upside down. Seemingly from nowhere, Sam's pack had arrived at the door Sam had broken through. There was a wolf on two legs, who could only be Sam's high alpha Dean, leading in four pack alphas. And Dean, without ever having met Castiel, accepted what he could smell from Sam, that he was worthy of protection. He wondered what other pack alpha would take an omega's opinion like that, let alone count him among his best warriors. Dean was a singular leader. And these alphas with him were acting without an ounce of doubt or fear. Their confidence in Dean and their love for Sam was absolute.

It was what a family was supposed to be.

Castiel looked at Gabriel and could see the same heartache and longing on his brother's face. These wolves, in their complete devotion to one another and their pack alpha, were outlining in blood red just how wrong it was for Castiel and Gabriel to be at each other's throats, how far the Argos had strayed from what was natural for a pack.

"Your move, buddy," he heard Dean challenge in that lethally cold voice.

In a way only Gabriel could at a moment such as this, he began to laugh. "Cassie, you are just full of surprises today. And that's especially interesting because you've been so terribly predictable your whole life."

Dean's eyes did not leave his perceived threat. "You all right, little brother?"

The wolf at his side gave a sort of bark in confirmation. On some level, even in the tension, Castiel registered a spike of emotion in the large dark wolf nearest Sam, and his own heart answered it with a desperate tug of possessiveness.

"So?" Gabriel said in a voice that sounded an awful lot like defeat. "How did you get up here without us smelling you?"

Dean smiled thinly. "We know a thing or two about a thing or two."

"Winchester, huh?"

"Yeah. Look, we got a long night ahead. Yield or fight like a wolf. I promised my boys we'd be home for dinner."

But Gabriel's eyes were on Castiel. "That what you want, Cassie? You want me to yield, and you can go be the lowest ranked alpha in a pack Michael is going to decimate the moment he learns about this? You willing to put your Argos crap at the entrance to their camp, bring yet another innocent pack into our brothers' endless war?"

Sam was staring at him when he looked down. The pleading in his eyes was too much to bear. He practically whimpered at the omega's sad eyes. But he made himself look up. "No. Of course that isn't what I want. I'll go with you back to Michael and he can do his work himself this time. Leave this pack alone."

But when Gabriel reached forward, every one of Dean's pack dropped into their fighting stance and growled fiercely. Castiel's brother pulled back sharply in shock.

"Too bad," Dean said with his cool calmness, "that he's the lowest ranked alpha in the Winchester pack, and that means it ain't his decision."

Castiel's mouth dropped open.

"You see," Dean continued conversationally, "an omega mentor of mine once told me that family don't end with blood. So if my brother has claimed your brother, Gabriel Argos, that means I've claimed him. If I've claimed him, he's family. And Michael Argos can come try to take him back, but I promise he does not want to take on the line of Samuel Campbell and John Winchester."

Gabriel nodded very slowly, and Castiel could tell he was impressed. Not intimidated. There was no wolf who could intimidate Gabriel. But Dean, in a few quick words, had gained his respect.

"So you go back and tell Michael Argos that I am stealing his Claw. You tell him to come get him. My boys are ready. And here's the funny thing about family, Gabriel. Real family. One howl is all it takes."

Castiel looked down at Sam in confusion. Gabriel's eyes were narrowing in the same sentiment. But there was only calm reassurance in Sam's eyes and scent. The older wolves turned and stared at Dean.

Dean's smile morphed into snarl. "Oh, you don't understand? Let me explain. Michael Argos thinks he's Fenris because he holds the largest pack over the largest territory, and that may be true. But packs are supposed to split, Gabriel. Keeps numbers manageable, intimate. Keeps every member sharp and healthy. But real family never loses touch with family. In our case? Seventeen packs, and all their splinters, with the resources of all their territory, and every single wolf-alpha, omega, female or pup-ready to fight for its own alpha, as one family. And every one of those high alphas belong to me. One howl. See? Everyone prays to Fenris, because he's big and bad. He keeps growing bigger and stronger, but he's only one, and he's chained himself to a single rock. Everyone prays to Fenris for favor, but it is the three heads of Cerebus everyone prays to for mercy. Dean Winchester, like Cerebus, is never alone. I never sleep. I can see in all directions at once, and I am the one who will drag Michael to Hell. Tell him to come get his alpha if he thinks he can. Castiel has been claimed by Dean Winchester as family, and now there is not a wolf in five regions that would not lay down his life protecting him."

Castiel could feel a true smile spreading along his face. So Cerebus had come to take him, but it wasn't to Hell. It was to salvation. If Anna could see him now...


	8. The Road Back Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is stuck in the cab with a fuming older brother, Castiel in the back of the truck with Sam's cousins.

They were long out of the city before Dean spoke again. Mark often drove, but Dean had growled at him low in his chest, and he had hopped into the back with the others. Mark Campbell Winchester never had much to say about anything, and he certainly had nothing to say about that.

Sam looked through the cab window back at his cousins and Castiel. He could see the awkward glances between him and Benny, and the smirks exchanged between Christian and Mark put to rest by a snap from old Travis.

The silence was painful. The waves of anger flowing from his brother was enough to make Sam whimper finally, when he could stand it no longer. "Dean, go on. Let me have it."

"It's done," he growled.

"It's not done, Dean! You just threatened an all-pack assault on-"

"On Michael freaking Argos, Sammy! Michael Argos!"

Here it was. Sam put his head back against the truck bench, feeling his stomach churn.

"Benny Lafitte Winchester, best damn fighter I got, desperate in love with you since the first time he saw you, ready to die today to save that mongrel mafioso you found out there. Did you see him? Did you see him, Sam?"

Sam's eyes squeezed shut against tears. This was not where he had expected the lecture to go.

"So in love with you he's going to protect Castiel Argos, First freaking Claw of the nastiest of all wolf packs. So far gone in love with you that he would die protecting the one you chose over him!"

The tears exploded over and streamed down his cheeks. "Dean, stop!"

"No! Because you need to know what you cost your pack today. I meant every word I said back there. We'll shelter your mongrel executioner. But his own family wants him dead. Do you know who that was Michael sent after him?"

"Gabriel," he choked out.

"That was Gabriel Argos, Sam!" Dean screamed, as though Sam had not even spoken. "Even Dad didn't meet with Gabriel Argos without two of his best with him! You know what Dad used to say about him?"

Sam sighed miserably.

"Used to say that pup they got in those three piece suits was the scariest cur he ever met because he has no real scent and he never stops smiling. Said he'd never met a wolf he trusted less than Gabriel Argos! And that's who Michael sent after his own kin! After the wolf you got yourself bonded with in less than half a cycle!"

"Dean, please."

"Fenris Lycan, Sammy!" he cursed, slamming his hand into the steering wheel.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen."

Dean heaved several breaths to calm his blood pressure. "I know you didn't," he sighed finally. He was silent for several minutes, just staring at the road ahead. Sam guessed he was calculating his defensive structure among his strongest packs and deciding what to tell his high alpha subordinates in case Michael called his threat and stepped into Winchester woods.

He glanced back at Castiel again. The wolf was staring coldly back at the city disappearing behind them. Christian, Mark and Travis were shouting to one another jovially. But Benny never took his eyes from Castiel. Sam had never wanted to hurt his old friend like this. He wished Dean had not brought Benny, of all wolves. But Dean had come to the city to take Sam back from the First Claw of Argos. He had needed his best. Besides, no one would be more motivated to tear Sam's suitor to shreds on Dean's orders than Benny.

"What made you change your mind?" he asked quietly as he stared back at Benny's steady gaze.

"What do you mean?"

"You came to take me from Castiel. To kill him if you had to. Now you're bringing him into the pack, committing to his protection with every wolf of every pack you've got."

"Yeah." To Sam's astonishment, his brother laughed a bit. "Well, here's where I admit we were there a while before we came in. I wanted to hear what was going on before I sent my boys in to fish you out of there. Castiel was talking. He wasn't wrong, you know. What he was saying."

"What did you hear him say?"

Dean let a grin come over his face. "I started to think I might not kill him around 'We're wolves, you ass,' and thought I might actually have liked him under other circumstances when he started talking about the Fenris prophecy not being a mandate to swallow up the whole world." He was quiet again, and Sam waited. Finally, he glanced at his brother. "Then he talked about you honoring a proud family with your courage. And when he said it...You don't have to have a nose like yours to know you two were all but bonded. That you both want that. And when he wouldn't give up your name because he didn't want to bring Michael down on us, on you...I signaled a change of plans to the boys, and they didn't question it."

"They never question your orders, Dean," Sam said softly. His voice was thick with emotion.

"And they shouldn't. But that's not what I meant. I meant that by the time I decided to save that mongrel's tail, they already agreed with that decision. Even Benny. Especially Benny. Guy wants to know that if he can't have you, you're at least with someone who respects you. And Castiel didn't leave any doubt of that."

Sam sobbed his breaths. "Benny likes him?" It was more than he had ever thought to hope for.

"I wouldn't go that far. But he doesn't hate him, and he isn't going to maul him. That's a win in my book." He gave a real laugh this time. "And Trav and the Campbells were won over when I asked him what he needed to bring from his apartment and he said absolutely nothing but his knife. That wolf's a fighter, Sammy, I'll give him that. And he's a real wolf, not some mutt in a suit. Look at him back there now. Sniffing at the air like he can't get enough. That's a feral, not a city dog."

Sam looked back to find Castiel doing exactly that. He smiled affectionately. "He was made for the woods, Dean."

There was another pause before Dean spoke again. "Had to be Castiel Argos, huh, Sammy?"

"Lycan, Dean! Would you let it go?!"

His brother chuckled to himself tiredly. "Pup, you have got expensive taste."

***

Sam wanted nothing more than to leap from the truck toward Castiel, but with a few eye flicks and a chin jut from Dean, the Campbell cousins each grabbed hold of the big omega and walked him to an empty tent within the first ring of sentry shelters.

"Pretty alpha you found there, Sam," Christian snickered. "He got a sister?"

Sam sighed. He watched over his shoulder as Castiel was lead into the tent he and Dean had always shared. "Shred yourselves," he snapped.

Christian and Mark laughed. "Little cousin Sammy getting all bothered over a suit mutt. Gotta say, Mark, didn't see that coming."

Mark shrugged.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Maybe we went about this the wrong way. Maybe Dean should have offered a trade. You two for Castiel Argos. Michael would still be losing out on that deal, but what a win for us that would be!"

"You sarcastic little shit," Christian growled. "We saved your tail today."

"You weren't paying attention. I was fine before you blew in. Me and the Argos First Claw? Gabriel was out-matched. You guys were just window dressing as the city humans say."

Christian stared at him as they deposited him in the near-empty tent. Very slowly, a smile appeared on Christian's face. He clapped a hand on Sam's back then, and nudged Mark, who did the same. "The suit was right, you know. Grandpa Campbell would have been proud of you. Wish I had been there to see you dive between two fighting Argos alphas. Ranked two and three in the Argos pack, and my little cousin stood between them like a damn omega Cerebus. Damn proud of you, pup."

Mark nodded once, and the two headed for the entrance again. Then Christian winked at him. "But I'll tag you if you ever tell anybody I said so. You and I can have matching scars."

Sam threw a mocking snarl at him.

Christian laughed and walked out. Mark spoke up finally. "Dean will send him in. He's gotta do the whole paws up, eyes down bit."

He smiled his thanks, and sat on the bedroll as Mark followed after his brother. He was exhausted, down to his bones. He lay down and breathed in the scents of home gluttonously. He could smell Lisa and Bobby most clearly. They must have set up this tent for him in expectation of his return with an alpha. He appreciated the gesture.

Nearby, though, was the scent he had waited for his whole life. The clean, wild scent of an alpha the city had not been able to taint or tame. He closed his eyes and dozed while his nose worked happily.


	9. Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel is brought into a proud family.

The high alpha's tent was nothing like Michael's back home. This was no throne room. This was not a room from which absolute decrees were made. In fact, from the outside, there was virtually no way to tell it was the high alpha's tent at all. The only clue was that the deer hide had a claw mark across the entrance designating it so. Once inside, he was surprised and somehow impressed by just how spare and clean it was. There were two compartments here, one for the bedroll and the other contained a desk, two simple chairs, and rolls of maps, a radio and a very small safe. Atop the safe was a glass display case in which lay a collection of fangs. The glass contained a carefully etched phrase: _My Alphas Before Me_ , written in the old Lycan language Castiel doubted more than a handful of wolves besides the true Argos alphas still knew how to read.

Dean was standing behind the desk when Benny walked him in. He was looking over a large map, which was pinned to the desk. There were pins all over the map, some of which held scraps of paper, faded photographs and bits of leather and string. He supposed it all represented something, but he did not know what.

Dean looked up. "Benny, send Garth in when I'm done here, please."

Castiel could not remember any order Michael had ever given which was delivered with a _please_.

"He heading somewhere?"

He looked for annoyance on Dean's face at being questioned. There did not seem to be any.

"I'm sending him and Christian to Harvelle."

"Want Jo to go too?"

Dean considered. "She can. Ask her if she'd like to. She'll have to be ready to go by midday." He went back to shifting pins on the map, seemingly at random.

Benny looked at Castiel for a long minute, until Dean looked up again, and realized the big wolf was still there.

"Benny. Go, man."

There was a shiver from the dark beast, as if he were pulling himself under control, but he nodded at his alpha and backed out of the tent.

Dean returned his attention to the desk. "You'll have to excuse Benny. He was raised by wolves."

Castiel stared at him. "We were all raised by wolves."

"No. Actually raised by wolves. By a pack of howlers."

"How the hell did that happen?"

"Not unheard of. Lone pup survives a raid, before he's old enough to change out of his wolf. Wanders into the forest. Howlers decide to kill him or raise him as one of them. Benny got lucky."

"How long ago was that?"

"Oh, ten years at least he's been with us. Before that he was a Lafitte for two years. The Lafittes put him out when he bit the head clean off their alpha. Seriously. Right off. My dad was there when it happened. He paid his death price, and brought him home rather than see them execute him."

"Lafitte." Castiel thought back, through his emotional fatigue. "They were raiders over from the Great Lakes. Gabriel calls them pirates. Benny was the one who killed Old Man Lafitte?"

"Yeah. They were probably the ones that hit his original family, though he'll never know for sure. Anyway, he saw the alpha beating a female to death, and went into a rage. Dad says he and my uncle Bobby were there to consider opening trade with the damn pirates, and came away with a prize fighter instead."

"Why would your father pay the death price on a wild wolf that had killed his own alpha?"

Dean stood away from the desk then, and his green eyes met Castiel's soberly. "Same reason I paid yours today. Benny smelled like a good wolf that needed a good family."

The blunt sentiment shocked Castiel. He frowned. "You know nothing about me."

"You're a Claw."

"A poor example of one."

"Don't bark back with me." It was said quietly, almost wearily.

The frown deepened, but Castiel chided himself silently. If he had spoken to Michael the way he was conversing with Dean, he would have lost an ear by now. "My apologies," he said, and raised his hands and lowered his eyes.

"Oh, knock it off. I ain't Michael Argos. I don't need to see your palms to know there's no knife in your hands."

Castiel looked up in surprise. "It's the traditional sign of deference."

"Sure it is. And its purpose is to show you ain't hiding silver."

Blue eyes sparkled with interest. "Your knowledge of lore is intriguing. I doubt even most other high alphas know that."

Dean shrugged. "Yeah. Well, my uncle Bobby's read every book ever written in any dead language you can name. These were my bedtime stories as a pup."

"In any case, I mean only to show due deference. You own my life."

Dean gestured to the chair opposite his, and they both sat. "Castiel, I'm owed your obedience."

"Of course."

"But that's not why you'll give it to me."

A dark brow lifted. He was trying to wrap his brain around the way this wolf talked. He nodded respectfully, but continued to frown in confusion.

"Castiel, I know a little bit about how your old pack operates. And just like the Argos, we got ranks here. Two of them. Me and not me. You are one of the latter."

The quirk of a smile brushed Castiel's lips. He kept his eyes down, but he could not help the tiny snort of laughter.

Dean smiled too. "It's all right, Castiel. I know you didn't wake up today with the intention to leave your pack."

"No," he confirmed. "I woke up four years ago with the intention to leave my pack. When I stepped into the adjacent tent to find my blood mate ripped apart."

The other alpha frowned severely.

"Michael said it was Raphael. That he had stolen into Anna's tent while I was out on a pack hunt, tore her to pieces, then escaped. That his scouts had seen him but could not get to him in time." He took a jagged breath, and said something he had never dared even think in words. "But if it had been Raphael, I would have smelled him."

There was sorrow in Dean's scent, and on his face when Castiel looked up briefly. It reminded him of Sam's empathy. "Michael killed your blood mate."

His heart was shredded with the words, never spoken aloud, never thought through, but ringing with merciless truth. "He thought I had considered leaving for Raphael's camp. Thought Anna had persuaded me to betray him. He thought this would punish me for my doubt, which is the gateway to disobedience. And he thought it would convince me to fight against Raphael."

"But you left instead."

Castiel's pride did not allow tears to come, not in front of this wolf. But he hurt. Horribly. Something was dying in him, something sacred. "I knew in my heart it was not Raphael who had killed her. But I could not...I had been so loyal to Michael. I was the one who tore out Lucifer's throat and put a silver knife through his heart. It couldn't be Michael who had done it. It would have killed me to even wonder. After everything I had given him, for him to take my mate, end my line...It was too much. Losing Anna crushed me. I could not lose Michael at the same moment."

Dean's soft eyes closed briefly. "I saw what losing his blood mate did to my father. What losing their pups did. Me and Sam, we were like ghosts to him. Every time he looked at us, he saw Mary and the pups who didn't make it. And it ate away at him. Me and Sammy, we were running the pack before he even died. Everyone pretends not to know, but every year that passed, we were making more of the hard decisions in his tent. Mary was all he could think about."

Castiel nodded sadly. "It does something to your chemistry," he said softly. "I had heard that, but I never knew how true it was until I felt it for myself. Some alphas never recover from it. Females are stronger, if they've got pups to think about. They pull it together when they lose their mates, because they have to. For their pups. But alphas? We just lose our minds. I wandered a city for four years. Nowhere to go. Nothing to do. And then your brother."

The big alpha nodded, and put his hands behind his head, lifting his booted feet to the desk and crossing them. Castiel thought he looked more relaxed than Gabriel ever had.

"And then my brother."

A tugging feeling strained at his heart. He hoped Dean could not hear the whimper in his voice when he asked, "Where is he?"

"Asleep in his tent."

The hollowness at being separated from the omega who had changed everything was becoming painful. "I see."

"Castiel, you haven't bonded to him. Why?"

The question should have been less startling than it was. Of course Dean would want to know. "I...I guess I didn't...He was there on his own, and so...I didn't want to press advantage. It wasn't as though I had known him long. He's not...He's very young..."

Dean seemed a bit amused by his stuttering. "Wolves don't need courting time the way humans do. And young? Young? He's practically decrepit."

Without meaning to, he glared up at Dean. "He's quite healthy! Many omegas do not take a bond for far longer!"

"And most would have bonded years ago. So don't act as though you were honoring his innocence."

He dropped his eyes, and the truth fell from his mouth. "I didn't think he wanted me."

A chuckle was Dean's response. "I could smell it by the time I hit the city. You want to tell me you didn't know?"

He felt a hot flush cross his cheeks. "Your brother is...he's not..."

Finally, Dean had mercy. "He's not like most omegas you've met."

"He's not like any omega I've met," he breathed.

"Castiel, stay out of Benny's way for a cycle or two. And keep your paws off of everyone. I find out you went city mutt on anyone in this pack, I'll shred you personally."

"I'm content to stay out of everyone's way, and contribute where I'm permitted."

"I know you don't want to be here, Cas. I'm going to call you Cas. You're here because the alternative is being dead. But I think you'll find it's a pack where you can feel at home. None of the feuding, none of the business arrangements, no paperwork and smuggling opiates for humans. Just wolves living the way they should. I don't tolerate any drama in my camp."

Castiel smiled gratefully. "Sam is here," he said softly. "There's fresh air, and no one is trying to kill me. I think you'd be surprised how happy I am to be here."

"Then welcome to the family, brother. We hunt in twelve hours. Go rest up."

His heart leapt. "A hunt? You're letting me-"

"Go rest up," he said again.

Castiel understood now. He nodded at his new alpha, and backed away toward the entrance. He made a mental note that Dean did not mind casually speaking with his subordinate alphas, but was loathe to repeat himself.

He turned and took off into a sprint, elated beyond belief at the promise of his first hunt in nearly five years. He followed his nose unerringly to where his omega savior slept inside a tent near Dean's. When he pulled back the entrance flap to the tent and stepped inside, he belatedly wondered if he should have asked permission to enter. This was not, after all, his omega.

So when Sam opened his eyes, the first words from his lips were an apology. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have barged in. I-I didn't know where else to go."

But the omega's eyes were so bright with affection that it melted the anxiety away at once. "Cas," he whispered.

The barely spoken syllable brought him quite literally to his knees. He dropped down beside Sam, off the bedroll, and took his hand in both of his. "The omega with the warrior blood," he breathed in awe. He had not been given the chance to speak to Sam all night. He was painfully aware that the last thing that he had said directly to Sam was no. It might have been the last thing he had ever said to him if things had gone differently.

"Cas, you're safe here. You know that, right?"

He gave a shaky smile. "I think I am. So many things have changed in just a few short nights, Sam. You're back with your family. I can't be with mine ever again. I'm in a camp for the first time in years, but it isn't like my camp. I want to trust your kin, Sam. They're good wolves, Sam; I can feel that. But I'm not. And they can feel _that_. And it is only a matter of time before they regret taking in a wolf with so much blood on his paws that it will never wash clean. I've killed my own, Sam. I'm an executioner."

Sam's other hand lifted to touch his face, and Castiel leaned into it as he had days before, to fill his nose with the clean, gentle scent of Sam's wrist. It made him lightheaded.

"No, Cas. You're just a wolf now. That's all you have to be, all Dean will ever ask of you."

He stared longingly into Sam's eyes then. "Sam," he moaned desperately, "please. Please ask something of me."

The sweet, patient smile he received was too much for his fatigued emotional state, and he began to weep. He lowered his forehead to rest on their hands, and let Sam's fingers card through his hair.

"Please ask something of me," he murmured again. "Tell me how to be worthy of you in spite of what you know I am."

"Will you bond me to you, Castiel?"

"Fenris, yes. With all that's left of my heart, yes. If you'll have me, I will be the proudest of all alphas." He was shaking with emotion now, tears flowing over their hands as he gripped so tightly it would have bruised any lesser omega. "You told me I'm an alpha with something to prove. I will never stop trying to prove myself to you. Sam, I would have begged you to let me bond you to me the moment you threatened to scar me as you did Azazel."

Sam choked on his laugh.

"No," Castiel corrected himself. "Before that. When you told me about the hunt you lead, tracking the black bear. No, Cerebus take me, Sam, I'd have bonded you to me when you first looked me in the eyes when you shouldn't have. Let me be your alpha, Sam."

"You are my alpha, Cas. I thought I made that clear hours ago."

He laughed this time, sitting up to stare at him. "What you made clear hours ago is that you don't mess with Sam Winchester's belongings."

Sam leapt at him then, throwing both arms around him and pulling him into the bedroll with him. They shared a laugh as Castiel crashed onto the large wolf. "Do you belong to me, Castiel?"

"I belong to you," he confirmed in a breath, as his lips covered Sam's in a passionate kiss that left his omega moaning. Waves of electric arousal shocked through him, and he let an indulgent growl escape his teeth. Beneath him, Sam was trembling with want, eyes dark and lips parted wet. He let his teeth slide, and lowered them onto Sam's robed chest. "Sam," he groaned. "Sam, let me!"

With a few quick twists, Sam had submitted his bare chest to Castiel's eyes and teeth. It was permission, and Castiel snatched it up in a rapid heartbeat.

Sam was his. And he belonged to Sam. Their bodies would make official, indisputable, what their hearts already knew.

And with their bond, the war began.


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean passes on sage wisdom to his pup.

Lisa had given him an hour before she had tossed him out on his ear. Apparently, the little mongrels weren't letting her get enough sleep. Lisa had never liked being smothered anyway, and she was the least possessive female Dean had ever encountered. Even when she was heavily pregnant, and he was torn between his responsibilities to the camp and wanting to stand guard at the foot of her bedroll in the den tent night and day, she had kicked him out and told him to go hunting with his brother so he didn't drive her crazy.

He loved that wolf.

And their pups were his greatest pride. Ross and Tristan were strong little alphas, who attacked him ferociously every time he entered the tent. Each time, he pretended to have been cowed into submission by their vicious growls, and they howled victoriously when he rolled over for them.

He had hoped for more girls, but when Krissy's personality began to shine through, he knew one was more than enough. It seemed Ross and Tristan were only permitted to survive due to her great restraint and generosity. Whenever they played too close, she sent them flying across the tent. Dean loved his tiny alphas, but his heart swelled every time he saw their sister whip them.

Then there was the fourth. Two little omega pups had not survived the trip into the world, but that was common, if tragic. The one who did, however, was a strong, intelligent little creature. Ben reminded Dean of Sam so much that he had accidentally used the wrong name on several occasions. Lisa had laughed at him.

"Your Uncle Sam has a new friend," he whispered to the pup in his arms. Ben was nuzzling at his father's neck, and Dean reveled in the contact. "Sammy's like you, isn't he, Ben? See, one of the most important members of any pack is an omega like you. Like Bobby and Sammy. You can't make pups like your brothers and sisters will one day. You'll have a different job."

Ben was listening intently. Unlike his siblings, Dean sometimes wondered if Ben caught every word he said. He looked forward to a time when the pup could change out of his wolf and converse. He wanted to hear the thoughts behind those intelligent, alert eyes.

"Omegas," he continued softly, "are the heart of a pack, Ben. Look at Bobby. He took care of me and Uncle Sammy long before we were even born. My father was high alpha, and he...well, he trained me. But he wasn't...Anyway, it'll be different for you, but my father wasn't around all that much, and when he was, it was just for training."

Ben's head rested on Dean's arm, but his eyes never left his face. It was amazing that this little thing seemed to be providing comfort and empathy for his alpha even now. Dean snuggled him fondly.

"Don't get me wrong, little guy. I'm going to train your little tail too. But it'll be different. I promise. Anyway, even with me and your mama, and your litter mates, Bobby and Sammy will always be two of the most important wolves in your life. They are the teachers, Ben. Don't tell anybody I said this, but there's a reason you're smarter than your brothers, and even Krissy. They're tough, but you can be tough too. They'll never be so smart as you are. Because you're an omega, and you're the one who will teach their pups one day. And they'll be grateful with all their hearts for you."

Ben's sharp little teeth gleamed as he yawned. Dean kissed his head, and the pup sighed contentedly.

"Omegas are the heart of every pack, Ben. You won't have your own pups, because you'll be the mentor and the guardian to every pup in your pack. You'll be the advisor to your alpha brothers, the comfort to your tough little sister."

Ben's eyes were still bright, but contact with his father was making him feel safe and drowsy.

"See, Ben, some packs have lost their way over time. They've forgotten the vital role omegas play. Some pack alphas only value females for the ability to make pups and omegas for the way they warm their bedrolls. But your daddy knows better. Our pack knows there's a reason each of us is born different. Your uncle and my uncle are the strongest, most loyal, most intelligent pack mates your daddy has. And if your brothers know what's good for them, they'll feel the same way about you. And if they don't? I'll leave Krissy in charge and she can kick their little tails."

Now he knew Ben was understanding him, because the pup gave a little bark of laughter. Dean scratched at his scruff affectionately.

"But don't tell anybody I said so."

The little beast winked.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments keep me happy!


End file.
